


Tohubohu

by Deberzer



Category: Tomb Raider (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Fluff, Friendship/Love, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-18
Updated: 2016-10-17
Packaged: 2018-04-15 09:39:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 41,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4601934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deberzer/pseuds/Deberzer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>25 chapters set in Lara and Sam's domestic life pre-Yamatai, where Sam struggles with her feelings for her best friend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I shouldn't be in love with you!

Sam had been acting a bit odd around me for a while, more than usual—a tad as if she had a secret. I'd tried calling her out on it and getting her to tell me what was bothering her, but it's Sam we're talking about here. Why was she able to make me do whatever she wanted and I couldn't even get her to talk to me?

It was late. I just came back from a shift at the Nine Bells, tired and exhausted, and was about to announce that I was home—I don't even know why I had the habit of doing that, but if Sam was home, it usually drew her out because she had something earth-shattering to tell—but then I heard noises coming from the kitchen. I went to investigate. Maybe she was preparing some dinner and I could snag some of it; I was really hungry. Although, it still sent shivers down my spine thinking about the last time Sam tried to fulfil herself in the kitchen.

Sam was hunched over the kitchen counter, propped up on elbows. Wait—was she wearing one my sweatshirts? What on earth...? She liked to comment on my attire from time to time, especially when we were going out, but I just feel very comfortable in my trousers and plain clothes and not Sam's fancy dresses and outfits; they do look really good on her, though.

I was just taking a breath in preparation to call Sam out on her current attire, when she ran a sleeve over her eyes. Was she crying? She grabbed a handful of that sweatshirt, pulled it up to her nose, sniffled and then mumbled into it: “I shouldn't be in love with you.” She shook her head.

My eyebrows shot up into my hairline. I slowly stepped up to her. “Hey, Sam. Are you okay?”

Her head shot around, wide-eyed. “Shit! I mean, hi!” She forced a smile, looked down her body and released the handful of shirt she was still holding. Her mouth opened as if she was going to say something, but nothing happened.

I tried again: “Are you okay?”

Her face scrunched up for a short moment, then it relaxed again and she turned away. “Yeah, it's nothing.”

There were only five things that made Sam cry: exams, TV shows, parents, bad relationships, and when her camera broke. “Heartache?” Good measured shot in the dark. Looking horrified, she froze. Seemed like I hit something—time to press on. “Who shouldn't you love?”

She squinted at me. “Were you eavesdropping?” I made an innocent face. Her eyes darted around for a second, then she picked up a sandwich that had been lying on the counter in front of her and—holy moly—it was enormous. “Look at this. Look at this! How can you not fall in love with this?” She theatrically mock-fainted.

I admit, I couldn't help eyeing her meal—salivating ensued, my stomach rumbled. But I wasn't going to let her off so easily this time; I rolled my eyes. “Okay... I'm not sure I'd cry over a sandwich, though.”

Sam held out half an onion to me with a deadpan. Oookay, something was off here. I gently put a hand on her shoulder, to which she tensed up. “You know you can tell me anything.” 

She snorted and pulled herself away from me. “Yeah, right,” she mumbled and went for the living room, sandwich in her hands. That moment I wasn't sure whether I should have been more upset about her deflecting me once again or that her sandwich was leaving with her.

When Sam stepped out of the kitchen, I called after her: “Why are you wearing my shirt?”

“It's cold,” she said like a question, as if using my clothes instead of her own was the normal thing to do.

“And you couldn't have taken one of your shirts?”

She looked shocked. “No?”

I was dumbfounded.

Sam was about to leave me like that when she suddenly halted, sighing audibly until she looked deflated. “Hey, there is this documentary series coming up. Wanna join me?”

At this point, I was willing to take whatever I could get. “Okay, I just need to get something to eat first. I'm starving.”

She looked down at the plate in her hands and gave me a warm smile. “You can have half. I'd probably die from it anyway.”

I kind of loved her right then.


	2. It's not fair!

Hairbrush, makeup, eyeliner, and mascara swirled around in a flurry between me and the bathroom mirror. The brush slipped out of my hand and dropped to the ground. I bent down cursing, hit my head on the sink, cursed louder, and grabbed the goddamn brush. Rubbing the sensitive spot on my forehead, I looked at the time on my cell phone. “Fuck!” And the cosmetic tornado continued.

There was a knock on the bathroom door, creaking, a yawn. “Sam? What are you doing? It's not even 6 A.M.”

“That meeting I told you about last week? Do you remember? Yeah, me neither.“ I didn't move my eyes away from the mirror—had to keep going. “Who's stupid idea was it to marathon that docu-series last night anyway?” I stared at the mirror. “God, I look like crap. Shit, I'm going to be so late. I'm so a goner. Shoot me, please!” The make-up brush rushed around under my eyes as I leant over the sink, propped up on the edge of the porcelain. I needed to hide myself behind some thick layer of cosmetics.

The door closed quietly; I'd probably annoyed Lara away. Just in case, I paused the war against my face anyway and checked. Well, hot damn, my eyes widened. Lara was leaning against the door, arms crossed, eyebrows raised. Her jumbled bed hair looked so cute, framing her concerned face in a beautiful mess, and it totally went perfectly together with that baggy T-shirt—one shoulder had slipped down. And those clingy pyjama pants, though.

Was I staring? I was staring. Shit. But how could I not? My best friend was the hottest person I knew. And after almost three years of playful teasing and flirting, it had become reality out of nowhere: I had a huge crush on her. Not just because she's gorgeous. I'm not that superficial, okay? I felt like I knew everything about Lara, and she was just perfect. So, I loved her and I had no clue what to do with that realisation. Why? Well, I... I didn't even know where to begin.

Damn, I was still staring.

I forced a scowl at Lara, making her return a quizzical look. “It's not fair!” I shouted at her and threw my hands in the air. Now she really looked confused. I flipped the make-up brush against the mirror in frustration. “I'm losing against myself here, and you—“ I frantically waved a hand at her. “You aren't even trying and—“

I had to stop myself before I had the chance to say anything I'd regret later. So I turned back towards the mirror and squinted at myself. Did my cheeks look pinker than a minute ago? Way to go, Sam. I picked the brush up again and sighed. Before it could touch my skin though, my hand was stopped by one of Lara's. I froze.

She grabbed my cheeks and turned my head to face her. And, gosh, she looked at me—I mean, looked at me—with those deep, hazel eyes of her.

And I just— Clattering in the sink. Did I just drop that dumbass brush again?

“You're destroying my unfinished masterpiece of camouflage paint,” I mumbled through squished cheeks in her firm hands.

“Sam, stop that. You look beautiful.” She smiled at me. Smiled. And brushed a strand of hair out of my face. I literally felt my cheeks catch fire. Forget about butterflies; I had the entire meadow in my stomach.

I blinked. “If I didn't know it better, I'd think you're trying to hit on me.”

She rolled her eyes.

“Are we going to kiss now?” I said through pursed lips, batting my eyelashes.

Lara chuckled and went in for a big hug instead. I didn't know why I actually felt a bit disappointed. As if there had been any chance that she'd actually kiss me. “Really, you look good. Stop worrying and get ready. I'll fix you a snack and a coffee meanwhile, okay?” She released me, gently squeezed my shoulders and left the room with another yawn.

I stared after her. Not fair.


	3. I could kill you right now!

I had no classes today, but several projects to work on. Unfortunately, I'd agreed to meet up with Sam at a bistro close to the campus for lunch; she'd texted that she needed to talk to me. I probably should have told her that I was busy, because when she “needed to talk to me” I usually ended up on the receiving end of something.

I'd already been sitting around for 15 minutes when I finally saw her approaching the bistro—and, uh oh, she looked very upset. A heavy sigh escaped me while I mentally prepared myself for whatever was about to come. She stood in the entrance and looked around, probably searching for me. Ducking under the table seemed like a good idea, but instead my arm shot up to wave at her—my incurable masochistic vein. Sam noticed me and shuffled over to collapse into a chair.

We ordered our lunch and when the waitress left, I waited in anticipation of the bomb Sam was surely going to drop any minute now.

“I need your help,” she said eventually.

There we go. I leant back into my chair, arms crossed, eyebrows raised. But when she gave me her puppy-eyes I had to smile despite myself.

“I need you for a little performance.”

“What? No. I-”

“There is this little scene a few people were going to act that I'm meant to film for a joint project. But an actress bailed on us and we have to get it done today, because we could only get that room for a few hours this evening and it has to be done by next week anyway. Plu-eese?”

I squinted at her. “No.”

“Just a small scene, nothing big. You won't have to say and do much.”

“No.”

“I swear I wouldn't ask you if I hadn't already tried everyone else. You're my last hope. It's a matter of life and death here. One of my classes depends on it. Please! I'll do the dishes for one week.”

“Pff, you'd have to do them for several months to get even remotely close to catching up.” I turned my head away in protest. A few moments later, I glanced at her and she still stared at me with a pleading look. I groaned. “Two weeks.”

“Deal!” Her face lit up.

Sinking deeper into my chair, I sighed audibly. “Fine,” I murmured and regretted already that I'd given in.

Sam smiled. “I could kiss you right now.”

We ate our lunch and I accompanied her to the campus where she led me to an outhouse. We entered a large hall where five people were standing on a stage dressed in animal costumes, reading scripts. The rest of the hall was filled with rows of chairs. About a quarter of them were occupied with people who were either fiddling around with mobile phones or watching the animals on the stage.

“You didn't mention an audience. Nor the costumes.” I frowned at Sam, who just shrugged acting the innocent. I felt the strong need to turn around and leave. Before I could as much though, a girl in a bee costume had come over and grabbed my arm. “Oh, is this our new lead?”

“Lead?” I repeated into Sam's direction.

The bee didn't let her comment though. “This is great, thanks so much! Hey, you can change over there.” She pointed to a door close-by that lead to a small room where several people were standing in their underwear changing into more ridiculous costumes. Bee looked me up and down. “Oooh yeah, you'll be the flower. Just the eye-candy we needed. I'll help you into the costume.”

“I could kill you right now,” I murmured through gritted teeth at Sam before the bee pulled me away.

“Bring it!” Sam grinned at me and waved.

Inconceivable.


	4. Knock it off!

That week had sucked. Lara had been stressing over one of her boring projects for ages now, and we were both suffering from it at this point: She had been getting really grumpy and stressed-out, and I was robbed off one of my main sources for entertainment. On top of all of that, I had one of those phases where I wasn't in the mood for anything.

It was Saturday past midnight, I was lying on the couch, watching the rerun of some horrible soap opera, unmotivatedly shoving bad microwave-popcorn into my mouth while Lara occupied most of the living room floor with books, papers, notepads, laptop, and her own body. Okay, I was half watching the show, half watching Lara.

Anyway. Holy shit, how the hell had this horrid acting found its way into my TV? I couldn't believe I paid money to have this crap pollute my ether. I groaned and tried flicking some popcorn at it. But yeah, my awesome aiming. Somehow the popcorn hit Lara's head instead; I swear she was some sort of magnet for stuff like that. She absently moved a hand over her head, totally missing though; the popcorn was still hanging onto her hair.

Huh. I threw another at her. But, obviously, when I actually aimed at her, I missed. So I blindly flipped one more into the air, and Jackpot! It landed right on top of her head. She ran a hand through her hair again and somehow managed to bury the popcorn deeper in her thatch. I snorted.

Time to raise the difficulty. Could I hit her ear? I moved a bit into her direction on the couch and threw another piece. It hit her earlobe. So close. Lara waved a hand as if she was trying to chase away a fly or something. The next missed again only hitting her cheek.

“Sam,” Lara groaned. She picked up a piece of popcorn from her book and threw it back at me without looking away from the text.

Yeah, thanks, but I didn't need it anymore. I returned it, followed by two more, but all of them missed. Wow, my aiming was getting worse with every try. This was getting frustrating. At least, one more got stuck in her hair. That was something.

“Sam,” Lara groaned again, dragging my name out with an angry rumbling deep in her throat.

Sorry, but I hadn't hit the bullseye yet. I was probably gonna run out of ammunition before that happened anyways. The next piece missed completely. Then I hit her temple, cheek, and—

“Godammit, Sam! Knock it off!” Lara shot up to her feet, clenching her fists and face. She looked so furious that, for a moment, I thought she was about to do something she might regret later. She wouldn't though, would she? Not my Lara.

I gave her my best puppy-eyes anyway. “I'm sorry,” I stammered and slowly rose to my feet, flipping the last piece of popcorn backwards over my shoulder—or at least that was what I wanted to do.

I swear that stuff had a mind of its own. It hit my shoulder, flew at Lara, bounced off her chin and landed right in her cleavage. Well, that was awkward but also kinda... I mean, wow, what were the chances? It sat right there between her boobs and peaked over the hem of her tank top. Well, if that wasn't the real bullseye... 

“My eyes are up here.”

“What?” Ooh... Oops, heh. She ground her teeth, her cheeks slightly flushed, and I tried very hard to suppress a stupid grin.

Okay, I couldn't simply ignore that popcorn. I was going to treat very thin ice here, but chances were decent that I was about to nicely defuse the situation... Or completely derail it. Thrilling! “Wow, I'm sorry,” I repeated and slowly reached for that piece of popcorn.

“Sam!” She batted my hand away, her face getting redder. “Damn it,” she muttered, turned away and removed the piece herself. Shame. Is it bad that I really wanted to do that myself? I stood there rubbing the back of my neck while Lara shoved all her papers and books together, picked the whole bunch up and stormed off into her room. The door closed with a loud bang.

All right, I felt somewhat sorry for her, but this had been waaaay more entertaining than this crappy TV show. My body fell back onto the couch, but just glancing at the TV made me miss Lara already. So I gave her a few minutes to settle into a false sense of security and then turned on stealth mode to sneak into her room with a bunch of popcorn I'd collected from the floor. She was back to brooding, hunched over her desk. I carefully sat down on the edge of her bed and aimed another shot. I couldn't suppress a chuckle. It had rolled down her back and fallen into the hem of her jeans.

In a matter of one second, Lara was towering over me, filling the room with this aura of anger; it was actually really intimidating. I thought I was a goner. Still waters and stuff, huh? She picked up one of her pillows and started hammering me with it. I curled up into a defensive, foetal position and squeaked with each impact. Not like it hurt or anything, but it seemed appropriate. She kept going for eternity, angrily shouting at me, going on about how I could never just leave her in peace for one moment, how she needed to concentrate, and how difficult the topic was she was working on, and she didn't have much time left, and what the hell was generally wrong with me anyway.

Okay.

I hoped that she was just letting off steam about her project and not really me. She couldn't be this angry at me, could she?

At some point the pillow opened up and the stuffing spread out in her room. Shortly after, Lara slowed down and eventually stopped. When I felt the bed give next to me, I carefully peeked out from under my arms. Lara was sitting on the edge of the bed, propped up on elbows on her knees, her face red like a tomato.

“I'm so sorry,” she mumbled. She looked at me, and—wow—if that wasn't a prime example of a face of regret. That was so cute that it gave me butterflies. I couldn't help but instantly pull Lara into into my arms, to which she responded with a hug of her own while burying her head in my neck. It felt so good to have her back, I leant my head against hers and could have stayed like that forever.

“Feeling better?” I said though when Lara started to stir. She laughed once and squeezed me tightly before pulling away.

She gave me this look of concern and asked whether I was okay. Not sure what she thought what damage she might have caused with a pillow but thanks for the concern anyway; I told her not to worry about me. She flopped down onto the bed, yawning heavily, one arm over her eyes.

Staring at the white flakes in her hair, I decided I couldn't leave her like that and laid down next to her to remove the popcorn. By the time I was done, she'd already fallen asleep. I pulled the duvet over Lara and hesitated. It was very tempting to just get under the duvet and stay with her for the night. But while I'd done that often enough for no good reason in the past, I actually needed to justify it to myself ever since I started crushing on her. Unable to do so, I sighed and was about to get up. But Lara rolled over, put one arm over my middle and her head on my shoulder.

All right, I wasn't getting up then. It was totally okay, right?

I think that was the first time that entire week that she properly slept; at least she looked very refreshed the next morning. I don't think the same could have been said about me.


	5. Screw you!

When I woke up, the morning sun was bathing the room in a bright light. After my eyes had adjusted to it, I looked at Lara. And Lara looked right back at me. She smiled and whispered: “Good morning, Sam.” First thought: 'You could call it like that.' Second thought: 'Ough, this was a mistake. I shouldn't have stayed.'

“Hi,” I stammered while I tried to figure out what to do. Wait—there was no reason to stress out. That was normal, that was okay, everything was fine. No, that was not fine. Lara's beautiful smile was so hypnotising, that I had to fight the urge to just grab it and press it into my lips. It was probably best to stand up and get a cold shower.

But Lara gently touched my forehead and said, “Are you okay?” I just smiled at her.

Her hand slid down to caress my cheek while her eyes stayed focused on mine. I froze. What was she doing? Her thumb touched my lips, slowly sliding over them, and then she moved closer to kiss my forehead. Okay, this was new. And good. And odd.

“Lara?” I said meekly while she pressed her lips onto the tip of my nose before moving down to my mouth. My heart was racing when she stopped just a centimetre away from me.

“I've noticed how you look at me,” she whispered. She was so close. My eyes wandered down to her gorgeous lips and I just wanted them to kiss me. I closed my eyes and waited for Lara to continue. But nothing happened. I slowly opened my eyes again.

She watched me for a moment—suddenly something shifted in her expression. She fell down into her pillow and started laughing. Wha-? She glanced at me and started bursting into laugher again. Scared, I pulled back against the wall behind me.

“Did you really think that I would want to kiss you? That I would want to be with you? You're a bloody pain in the butt as it is. Dream on, little dyke!” She poked me into my ribs and chuckled. “I wonder what your dad would say if I told him. It probably wouldn't make a difference at this point after all the shame you've already brought upon your family with your rebellious behaviour.”

My heart dropped into my guts; I couldn't believe the evil grin she was giving me along with those words that practically seeped with sadism. What the hell was happening? “L-Lara?” was all I managed to say.

“Yes, that's my name. I know that. I'm a smart girl—unlike you.”

I.. I was in shock. Why was she doing this to me? My jaw quivered, my eyes started swimming.

Lara made an exaggerated, annoyed sound and then moved her hands in the air while staring at the ceiling. “Lara here, Lara there. Lara do this! Lara do that! Lara, help me! Help me!” She looked angrily deep into my eyes. “You are annoying, you know?”

I clutched at my chest, couldn't breath, my heart—it ached like it was going to give up on me any second, dizziness. I tried to blink away the tears, didn't want them to fall, not here, not like this, but I couldn't stop them.

“Oooh, are you going to cry now? How mature of you, little Sammie. But that has always been your only defence-mechanism. Boo-hoo.”

“Screw you!” I shouted at the top of my lungs, I couldn't take this anymore.

“Why thank you. Same goes to you. You know what? I'm fed up with you.” Her eyes that had always looked so kindly at me were now black with hatred. “I am fed up. I am going to leave you,” she said slowly. “I'll pack my crap and be gone. And you'll be all alone.”

“Please,” I babbled, trying to hold onto the shreds of my world that was breaking apart.

“But I'm going to give you a farewell gift,” she said with a distorted smile. She moved closer, and I tried to back away, pressing into the wall. One of her hands snuck behind my neck and her mouth pressed against mine.

No no no! That was all wrong. That was not how our first kiss was supposed to be.

I tried pushing her away, but all of my strength had been sucked out of me. She wound her arm around my head holding me in place against her lips while she rolled me onto my back and got on top of me. Straddling my lap, she towered over me, her grin twisted with how superior she seemed to feel.

“Get off me!” I dug my hands into her legs, trying to get her off me, but to no avail. Why did I have to be such a wimp?

Lara just ignored me. She smirked and, with one swift movement, she took her top off.

Staring at her naked, full breasts, I was completely taken by surprise. I... What... No. I turned my head away and kept struggling against her. God, that was confusing. My efforts to get her off me came to a halt when she grabbed my hands and pressed them against her chest. Her hands were like vises. I couldn't help but glance at her as Lara began to grind her hips against mine. Oh my god, her boobs were so beautiful. I just... I stared... Leaning down, she kissed me again. My mind was a mess, I was so conflicted. I wanted Lara. I wanted her so bad. But not like that. Especially not when she'd broken my heart, ripped it out of my chest and stomped on it just a minute ago.

Lara broke the kiss and smiled lopsidedly at me. I was expecting her to laugh at me again, but instead she slowly opened her pants. Her hand firmly enclosed one of mine and dragged it down her body before shoving it into her panties. She held it there in place and moved her crotch against it. She moaned, and—god, this was all wrong—but I'd never heard Lara make sounds like that and it was so sexy. I wasn't sure that moment whether I still wanted to kill or fuck her. Biting her lip, she kept going for a minute before she pulled my hand out of her pants and licked my fingers one after another.

It was turning me on so hard at that point. But no, no, no. I... I still wanted to get away from her as far as possible. Or did I? Shit. I blinked—she stood on the bed, her feet on each side of my hips. Towering over me again, she looked so tall, so powerful. She made me feel small and petty.

She dug her thumbs into the hem of her pants. I stared at her as her jeans and panties slowly moved down her legs to her knees. She got off me and kicked her clothes away; she was completely naked now. First, she crushed my soul, and now she was naked and my wettest dream? I should have gotten away as quickly as possible now that I was free. But I was paralysed. Her eyes found mine again and her weird smile widened. She knelt down next to me. Her hands opened my pants and pulled them down my legs. She wiggled her eyebrows and turned down my body before swining a leg over my head, and... woah, I suddenly had her pussy right in my face. I tried to process the image in front of me when I felt Lara's tongue between my legs—and it felt so good. I couldn't help it, couldn't help getting into it. I dragged my hands up her thighs and butt before slowly running a finger through her lips. Well, at least she seemed to be turned on as well. Well, fuck. Despite everything, this was still totally hot. I wanted to taste her, I wanted to dig my tongue into her. I moved my mouth closer to her and was about to kiss her body, when—

“Sam? What's wrong? Are you all right?” I heard Lara say.

“What?” I blinked and suddenly Lara was leaning over me—fully dressed. Her eyes were back to bright kindness. Did I...? I looked down my body—my clothed, mostly duvet-covered body. I still felt the intense excitement between my legs. Confused, my eyes darted back to Lara. And she gave me her cute, concerned look with her beautiful, alluring eyes, and she put a gentle hand on my burning cheek, and her full, pillowy lips moved, asking me again in a soft voice whether I was okay.

And then—it hit me. My hand clutched at Lara's wrist and I stared at her slack-jawed, breathing heavily, as the orgasm ripped through my shuddering body.

When the sensation ebbed down, I flopped back into the pillow. Fuck my life! I was stressing over what would happen if I told Lara my feelings, and I had a friggen sleep-gasm in her bed. Right in front of her! The image of Lara's evil grin flashed before my eyes.

My real Lara gently touched my forehead and asked affectionately, “Are you okay?” I broke out in cold sweat. And I just... I batted her hand away and stuttered that I was fine while getting the fuck out of her bed and into the bathroom. I stumbled to the toilet, sank down and began to sob.


	6. You're a complete moron!

Well, what the hell was that?

I was lying on my bed, staring at the ceiling, and completely baffled about Sam's reaction when I'd just asked her whether she was all right. The way she'd looked at me and fled?

I was worried about her. Why wouldn't she tell me what was wrong? Something had been going on with her for a while now and it seemed to tear her up inside. Had it anything to do with me? Had I done anything wrong? I didn't know how to help her and that was frustrating.

Biting my lip in thought, I got out of bed and shuffled towards the bathroom door. I reached for the handle but stopped my hand before it could touch it. This was awkward, I thought and rubbed the back of my neck. I had to make sure she was okay though. What if she needed my help? What if she was sick? I put my ear against the door and listened. Everything was quite, so I considered going back to my room and leave her alone. But then there was a sniffle. Oh Sam...

I carefully pulled down the handle, but the door didn't open, so I cautiously knocked instead.

“What?” a grumpy voice came from inside.

“Sam, what's wrong?” I pressed my head against the door again.

A moment of silence. “Nothing.”

“Sam, please... Can you let me in?” I knocked again when she didn't answer awhile.

“Go away! I'm on the can.”

I kind of doubted that. Why was she so repulsing and gruff? “Come on, please talk to me!”

“Not while I'm pooping. I said go away!” Her voice got more aggressive—or desperate.

“Damn it, can you stop that and finally tell me what's wrong?”

“Your face. Now piss off! I'm so annoying and never leave you alone anyway. There, you have your chance for a quiet day for your oh so important projects.”

My flat hand smashed against the door. “Can you grow up? You're a complete moron!”

Everything was so quiet all of a sudden. I could hear my heart pounding. Bloody hell, why had I just said that? I hit my head against the door a few times.

“I know. You kinda already told me,” she said eventually in a quiet, broken voice, followed by muffled sobs.

What was that supposed to mean? Shit, I'm so stupid. “I—I'm sorry. Sam, I'm sorry.” I waited for a minute, but she didn't say anything any more. The palm of my hand slammed against my forehead as my face scrunched up. Before heading into the kitchen to leave her alone, I looked at the bathroom door one more time and ran a hand over it, as if Sam would be able to feel it.

I was halfway through forcing some breakfast into my contorted stomach when the bathroom finally opened. Sam gave me a very quick glance and disappeared just as quickly into her room. While I stared into the direction she'd vanished into, my fingers drummed on the tabletop while my leg kept bopping up and down underneath. I wasn't sure what to do. I still didn't know what she meant earlier, but pressing for an answer seemed like a bad idea at that time. Sam was clearly upset though, and I couldn't leave her like that. A deep, steadying breath later, I got up and slowly walked over to her room. For some reason, I expected the door to be locked even though I couldn't remember the last time she'd actually done that, but when I tried the handle, it opened. Sam was sitting on the bed, face in her hands, clothes sprawled out next to her—probably her outfit for the day. I set down next to her and carefully put an arm around her shoulders.

“I'm sorry,” I repeated quietly.

“I know,” she whispered.

“Will you tell me what's going on?” I gave it one last try, but Sam just shook her head. “All right. Whenever you're ready to talk, I'll be there for you. You know that, right?” Sam nodded slowly. “Okay, I'll make you a coffee,” I said and gave her a kiss on the head before heading back into the kitchen.


	7. I love this song!

I had come home from a shift at the Nine Bells around midnight—an hour ago—and found the flat just the way I'd left it in the morning. Apparently, Sam hadn't come home all day as far as I could tell. I'd tried calling her a few times, but all I got was her cheerful voice from the mailbox.

I was lying in bed in my pyjamas staring out of the window into the night sky. There was still a paper that needed to be written but Sam kept me from concentrating. What could it have been that was bothering her so much? That made her acted around me—or reacted to me—the way she'd done lately. Raking through my memory brought up nothing that could have provoked that. In the three years we'd been living together by now, I didn't think she'd been like that before. We'd had our fair share of bickering and disagreements, but this was different. After coming to the conclusion that this brooding wasn't going to get my anywhere, I got up and turned on the telly in the living room to distract myself when suddenly my mobile rang. I hurried back and picked up.

“Hello? Taxi? I neeeeed a taxi,” I could hear Sam's slurred voice. There was a lot of background noise that made it hard to understand her. A loud voice stood out for a moment. Sam shouted back and chuckled.

“Sam, it's me, La-” She didn't let me finish. She asked for taxi again, said some name I hadn't heard before and hung up.

Ugh, this again. Frowning at the phone in my hand, I ran a hand through my hair and sighed. At least I knew now that she was still okay. But she sounded very drunk and it was not save to leave her out alone like that. Who knows what she'd do, or others could do to her. I had to hurry.

I quickly checked what that name was she'd given me and found out that it belonged to a nightclub on the other side of the Thames—which was kind of odd considering there were like 300 close by. I grabbed my keys, put on shoes, and a coat over my pyjamas and rushed out of the flat, down the stairs, out of the building and down the road to the car. Speeding as if I was trying to win a street race, I arrived at the club 20 minutes later. I may have cut off one or two other drivers on the way. Leaving the car somewhat unorthodoxly parked behind, I rushed to the entrance. After looking through the people in a hurry that were gathered around the entranceway and not seeing Sam anywhere, I had a little verbal fight with the bouncer who wouldn't let me in in my pyjamas. I took a deep breath to calm myself down. It wouldn't have made much sense if she'd gone back in anyway since she thought she called a cab. On the other hand she was drunk.

With hands on the hips and biting my lip, I stood on the pavement and looked around into the night. Music was seeping out of the nightclub behind me. People walked past me in both directions, talking and laughing—far too much noise to try calling Sam again. With still no sign of her, I decided to check the vicinity. Rounding the building, I entered an alley. I was passing a couple that was making out, when I spotted a familiar looking figure hunched over a waste bin.

“Sam?” I said and rushed over. The figure bent over the bin and spat into it. She coughed a few times and then looked up in my direction. It was her—and she didn't look well.

“Heeeey, I know you,” she said and stumbled backwards against the wall. She was only wearing a short-sleeved button-up shirt, a short skirt and high heels. At least she still had her handbag. The top buttons of her shirt were open and her cleavage told me she wasn't even wearing a bra. She must have been cold; the night was quite chilly.

“Oh Sam...” I walked over to her and put a hand on her cheek. She leant her head into it and gave me a lopsided smile. Her skin was cool.

She made a face as if something occurred to her. “Oooooh, Lara. What're you doin' heeerre?” Her breath smelled like 50% alcohol. I was afraid I'd get drunk myself if I inhaled anymore of it.

“Saving you,” I mumbled as I buttoned up her shirt. I slipped out of my coat and helped Sam into it.

She just watched me wordlessly. “Ain' you toooo preshous fo' this world?” she said before pushing herself off the wall towards me. Staggering, her legs bent sideways. She was about to trip and sprain her ankles in those high heels. I caught her and Sam's arms instantly wound themselves around me. “Ya'r tooo goofo' me,” she whispered into my neck.

“Nonsense,” I told her and gently ran a hand over her head and back. “Come on, let's get you home and into your bed, okay?” I put an arm around her and carefully made her to move forward. She was watching me oddly all along.

When we passed the nightclub, Sam halted and threw her arms up. “I loooove thisong!” She turned to stand in front of me and started awkwardly moving against me on unsteady legs, cheering and singing along to the music that became louder every time the door to the club opened. “Daaaance with me.”

People around us started eyeing us making me feel very self-conscious in my pyjamas and with Sam now rubbing her body against mine. When she swayed to one side, we nearly fell over, but I could catch us.

Someone tapped on my shoulder. The bouncer had come over and told us to bugger off. I gave him an apologetic look and was about to tell Sam that we should go, when she pressed her lips against mine. I was taken aback. But only for a short moment. Then the taste from her mouth seeped into mine. I gagged and spat on the ground, frantically wiping my mouth with a sleeve. Sam had stopped moving, her face and shoulders had fallen.

I apologized and asked if we could go. I just wanted to get away from the people and the bouncer. Sam didn't protest and trudged alongside me. When I opened the passenger door, Sam fell head first into the car, her behind poking out at me. That's when I saw— “Oh god, Sam!” I pulled down her skirt. “Where are your knickers?!”

She looked confused along her body and then grinned oddly. “Iiiiiii thiiiiink... I wash ballin' someo' in the rrrestroom.” She held up a thumb and winked. “Yoooo cangiv me yoor's iffou wan'.” She grinned.

My scrunched up face sank down onto my arm on the car's roof and a heavy sigh emerged from deep within me.

“L-L-Laraaa,” her voice shook me out of it. Sam had fallen off the seat and wound around on floor, the gearstick poking into her side. I helped her back up and fastened the seat belt around her before getting into the car myself to drive off. The heater was making the interior comfortably warm.

Sam had been quiet, not saying a word. When I stopped at a traffic light, I looked at her expecting her to be asleep. Instead, she was eyeing me, her back against the door.

“Gosh, looga'you.” She pointed at me for several seconds, shaking her forefinger up and down. “Lara, I... Iiiii looove you so mush.”

I smiled at her and put a hand on her shoulder. “We'll be home soon, okay?” A car honk sounded behind us and I drove on.

I parked the car soon after and opened the passenger door to help Sam out, but she was fast asleep. Oh well. I took a deep breath, put my arms behind her back and under her legs and picked her up leaning her head against my shoulder. At the front door, I managed to fish my keys out of my coat Sam was wearing and safely got her inside, up the stairs, into our flat—slowly closing the door behind me with my foot—and carefully lay her down into her bed. I watched her for a while before tucking her in and heading into my own bed, leaving both of our doors open.


	8. Bring that here!

I almost fell out of my bed when I awoke to Sam shouting an incomprehensible “Gaaaaaah!” It took me a moment to get my bearings before I was able to swing my legs out of the bed and rush into Sam's room. She'd covered her head with her pillow—which was brightly sunlit through the open curtains. Her duvet was on the floor. I leant against the door frame and chuckled.

“Lara? Is that you? Can you kill off the sun please?” her muffled voice said.

I went to close the curtains before leaning against the wardrobe with crossed arms. “You can come up.”

“Do I have to?” she muttered, but a few seconds later, the pillow inched down her face and Sam's closed eyes appeared over its top. She groaned. “Don't even think about giving me a judgemental look,” she said before glancing at me.

I raised my eyebrows and snorted. I did let my arms fall and put them behind my back though. “How are you feeling?” I said in an amused tone. She gave me the finger in response.

“Worth it though. Sweet, sweet stress relief,” she mumbled into her pillow. From what though, I still wondered. “Memories are pretty hazy but... Thanks for picking me up,” she said with a weak smile.

I shrugged casually. Time to see if it was possible to coax some answers out of her. “Stress, huh? About that... You could have told me earlier what was going on with you,” I fibbed.

Sam's eyes widened. “What did I tell you? Shit. Lara... Please don't think tha-” She squinted at my deadpanning face. “I didn't say anything, did I?” When I made an innocent face, she turned away from me and murmured, “Bitch.”

I snatched her pillow out of her hands and stepped back from the bed. “Bring that here!” she grated holding out a hand towards me until she winced and rubbed her temples. “Oh, God, kill me!”

A jolt of mercy almost made me waver. When I didn't move though, Sam turned over again and curled up, poking her behind out at me.

I went straight to her wardrobe, pulled out some knickers and threw them at her, my cheeks reddened.

Sam looked quizzically at it for a few seconds. “Oh, it did feel kinda light down there.” She glanced at me and saw my frown. “What?” she growled, pulling the piece of clothes up her legs. I just shook my head. “I'd still be living with my parents if I wanted to see that look,” she huffed and curled up again. “I needed that,” she whispered grumpily into the bed. If only she'd tell me what was going on.

I sighed as pity took finally over. I gave her the pillow back—which promptly found its way back over her head—and tucked her in with the duvet that had been lying on the floor. Sam groaned when I took the pillow out of her hands again, but relaxed with a smile when I gently raised her head to put the pillow under it. I left her for a while to return with some water and a sandwich which I put it on the bed stand.

I sat down on the bed and stroked her cheek. “Listen, I don't have much time. Classes start soon. I'll come back as soon as possible. If anything's up, text me. And you... Just rest and get better, okay?” I leant down and planted a kiss on her head. When she turned her head towards me, I quickly retreated with a disgusted face. “And please brush your teeth when you can get out of bed,” I said when she looked at me puzzled.

Sam checked her breath and pulled a face. “Hey, thanks for everything. Have a nice day. Love you,” she muttered before sinking back into the pillow. I scrutinized her for a moment. It had been a while since she'd said that to me, I thought. I ran a hand over her duvet-covered middle and left the room, glancing one last time back at her.


	9. I hate you!

I thought I'd been avoiding Lara too much lately—entirely my fault, I admit. So I figured it was high time to go out with her and see how it goes. I knew she didn't have anything to do that afternoon, so I started getting ready when I came home earlier than her, hoping that she hadn't decided to overnight in the library. I'd just shanghai her with my plans for the evening and drag her out. Sometimes, she liked to act like she wasn't in the mood or something when I did that, but she always ended up having fun with me and enjoying herself. I was just putting on a nice dress, when I heard the apartment door open and close. I shot out into the living room, presenting myself with an enthusiastic, “We're going out!” and froze in a Ta-dah!-pose.

Lara's face fell. Oh god, what now? “Sam, I'm sorry. I can't.”

My arms slumped down to my sides. “What? Why?”

“I—I took on a new job and I have to leave in a bit.”

She had to be kidding me. “You did what?! Aren't you working enough already? Are you trying to wear yourself out? What's the point? Are you punishing yourself for something?”

“I really need a few books for a new class and they are quite expensive,” she said while going into her room to drop off her stuff.

“Lara, I—“

“No, don't even start with that.” She pointed a serious finger at me. “Thank you, but I can provide for myself. I can handle it.” She turned to her rucksack and started emptying and refilling it with other stuff. “I'm—“ She paused for a moment and sighed. “It was really hard to find something on such a short notice that could be arranged with my classes, the shifts at the bar and my other side-job. I'm... glad... I found this job.”

I slumped against the door frame, groaning heavily. “Are you even listening to yourself? This is bullshit. You're working yourself to death. You don't let yourself have some fun.”

“Maybe we have different definitions of fun.” She lowered her eyebrows at me and then returned her attention to her bag.

“Oh? Okay. Tell me what fun new job you have!”

She froze. “I... That's unimportant!” Her face cycled through a series of expressions while her hands fiddled around with the zipper of her rucksack. “You know, you really should start taking life a bit more serious.” She grabbed her stuff and planted herself in front of me. “You always take everything far too lightly anyway.”

“Your opinion is void. I'm older than you.” I crossed my arms and raised my chin.

“Physically. Clearly not more grown-up,” she grunted while swinging the rucksack onto her back.

“Better to be immature and have some fun in life than to be an uptight old hag.”

We frowned at each other until I gave in and shook my head. “Fine, go! Leave me!” I held an arm out towards the apartment door.

Lara threw her arms up. “Can't you just be supportive for once? The world doesn't revolve around you. This is important for me, okay? I need those books, I need the money, and since I already signed up for the job, they need me.”

She wanted to storm past me, but I put an arm up in the door frame and stopped her. “Screw this. I'm not letting you.”

She glared at me. “You don't have a say in this and I don't have time for this,” she muttered and ducked under my arm.

“I'm gonna order the tombstone meanwhile. 'Here lies Lara Croft. She worked hard for this grave.' ”

“Better than 'Samantha Nishimura, she drowned at a bar.' Why don't you go get drunk and laid on a toilet again? Oh and don't forget to not wear underwear. Apparently acting like a slut is your definition of fun,” she spat at me while putting on her shoes.

“Fuck you!” I shouted with quivering jaw and threw one of her books at her. She ducked away and it hit the wall close to the door. Lara just stood there and gave me this judgemental look that was drilling a hole into my chest. I sank down to the floor. My head fell into my hands and I muttered into them, “I hate you.”

“Fine. Likewise.” The apartment door closed with a bang.

Was that what she thought about me? Had dream-Lara spoken the truth? My body was trembling with rage and fear. The air seemed far too thin in our apartment all of a sudden. I couldn't breathe. I needed to get out. Away.


	10. I'm pissed off!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to Reasons Lost from fanfiction.net for looking over the revised version.

Sam had clearly not been well emotionally lately. Giving in to that nonsensical argument had been so stupid, and I hated myself for it. I'd just been under a lot of stress those past two weeks, leaving me on edge lately. It was still no excuse.

Of course, she wasn't home when I came back in the evening. Calling her proved to be as fruitless as before. It happened quite often that she went out without me when I had no time, but the flat seemed even emptier now than usual. It was depressing. I was worried. I missed her.

It was closing in to eleven p.m. when my phone rang. I quickly picked it up expecting to hear her slurred voice again. I hesitated. The number was none I knew. Odd. My finger dragged the green receiver over the screen.

“L—Lara?”

“Sam! What's—”

Her voice was fast and scared. “I need your help! Please! Some creepy guys followed me. I locked myself in a phone booth two blocks down the street, I think. Please hurry!”

“Hold on! I'm coming!” Just before I hung up, a bang blared through the speaker—Sam screamed, my stomach dropped.

I stared for one second at the screen in my trembling hand. Then, I rushed into my room. Where were the car keys? I couldn't remember where I'd put them. I broke out in a cold sweat. I hurried to the entrance of the flat. My hands patted down the pockets of my jacket, my eyes scanned the surroundings. Nothing. There was no time for that. I slipped into my shoes, and the door slammed shut as I darted down the stairs and out of the building.

“Two blocks down the street”, I murmured while taking just a second to orient myself. Then I turned and dashed forward. My feet flew over the pavement. The sudden drop in temperature in my surroundings caused goose bumps on my skin, the cool night air shot into my chest, stinging in my lungs, my muscles ached from the sudden exertion; I ignored it all, pressing my body to hurry on.

The first intersection wasn't far off now. When I passed the corner of the last building before the crossroad, my feet stopped, digging their heels into the ground. The yellow light of a street lamp had cloaked the headlights of an approaching car. I skidded forward a meter, stumbled and collided with its side. The wing mirror painfully stabbed into my waist, drawing a grunt out of my throat. The driver's door opened and a man emerged while I pushed myself off the car holding my aching side.

“Hey! Are you crazy?”

“Sorry.” I held a hand up, rounded the bonnet and took off.

Phone booth. One more block. My feet picked up pace again. I passed a café, elbowing my way through a group of people that spilled out of the entrance and earned a myriad of insults and curses. Panting a few apologies I pressed on, leaving the chatter behind. The distant view of a red booth sent a new jolt of energy into my limbs. I rushed forward, closing in to where I was hoping to find an unharmed Sam.

My pace slowed down as I approached, and when I almost came to a halt wheezing and with my heartbeat droning in my ears, I put my hands on my waist to massage my burning sides. The booth was empty. Horror filled my mind when I saw the two broken windows in the booth. Splinters of glass grated under my shoes and glittered in the light of the moon and the lamps. My eyes darted around. 

“Sam!” I shouted at the top of what my lungs could muster, my voice resounding in the street and then fading away. No response.

No one was to been seen on either side of the street. My head shot around when a car drove by, interrupting the unusual quiet. I paced up and down the pavement, my eyes wandering up the exterior walls of the surrounding buildings. Several windows were illuminated from the inside, a few were open, but no head could be seen peeking out into the night.

“Sam!” I tried again. Nothing. No sign. I'd been too late. Frustrated, I kicked several times against the booth. The metal rattled and a few more pieces of glass fell out of the frames and crashed onto the ground. I had to force myself to stop though. This was not the time to lose it. Sam needed my help. I leant against the booth and breathed deeply.

She'd said they'd be following her. They were probably on foot then. Good. They couldn't be that far away; I'd been quite fast. Obviously they hadn't gone the way I'd come; I would have noticed them. If they'd grabbed her, she would have struggled and they wouldn't have stayed on the main street either. Side roads it is, I thought. Hopefully they hadn't entered any of the buildings.

Fighting against my smarting muscles and lungs, I left the booth, and ran further down the street to turn into a narrow alley. It was softly lit by light seeping out a pair of windows and onto the path below. I walked along a few overflowing dustbins standing against the walls. But the alley was deserted as far as I could tell. I turned and emerged back onto the street.

Suddenly, a distant clang. I turned my head left and right, trying to figure out the direction it had come from, but the echo made it hard to tell. Then, another clang. The other side of the street. Without checking for traffic, I darted over the asphalt towards another side road. As I entered the gloomy space between the bordering buildings, I picked up chatter further ahead. Praying that I'd found Sam and that she was still unharmed, I pressed on, passing further dustbins—some of them had been knocked over, spreading their foul content into the alley. The louder the voices got, the more I slowed down. I could make out two of them now. Both male, and both on edge. They were arguing, it seemed. The alley curved around the corner of a building, and when I walked around the bend, I saw two men standing close to a wall. One was gesticulating wildly. The other, the taller one—He was holding Sam! One hand over her mouth, he was pressing her head against his chest, holding her arms on her back with the other. Sam was thrashing around in his hold, her bare feet kicking out at either of them, the dress she'd been wearing that afternoon flitted around her with her wild movements.

I hesitated for just a second. I actually hadn't thought about what I'd do if I found Sam, and she was threatened by those “creepy guys” she mentioned. I'd have to improvise. I couldn't leave Sam like that any longer.

“You're out of your mind! What do you even plan to do with her? This wasn't your best idea. Sure, would could possibly go wrong?” the gesturing man said in a nervous voice he tried to keep down. He leant with an arm against the wall of a building. “We've had it. We're goners.”

“Shut your fucking mouth already! Shut up! Just shut up and get the fucking car!” his partner bellowed, his face red. Sam screamed into his hand, looking horrified at the man opposite to her. “And you, shut the fuck up, too!” Sam's captor said, jerking her head left and right.

“Lower your voice! Do you want to draw the attention of the entire neighbourhood?” The first thug turned away, hands in his hair. “Shit, shit shit!”

“Get a fucking grip on yourself and get the fucking car already, you moron! I'm gonna kill you myself if you don't move.” Suddenly, he howled in pain and pulled his hand away from Sam's face. “Fuck, she bit me! You fucking bitch!” Her mouth uncovered, Sam instantly began to scream for help.

“Shit, do something! She's too loud!”

I closed in on them while the taller of the two pushed Sam against the wall by her neck. “Shut up and get the fucking car!” he shouted at the flailing man before turning back to Sam. “I said shut the fuck up!” He reached back with his hurt hand.

No no no! “Hey!” I shouted. All three of them turned towards me. “What do you think you're doing? Let her go!” I came to a halt about five meters away.

“Shit, what now? I can't believe this.” The smaller man threw his arms up and turned away. “This is all your fault. I'm done here”, he grunted and started walking away.

Still holding Sam by her neck, the other abductor grabbed his shirt and pulled him back. “You're not done. You're done when I fucking tell you so! Deal with her! We're getting out o—”

“What? Deal with her? What's that supposed to mean? You're crazy!”

“Are you fucking dumb? Just do it! I swear I'm gonna tell them it's your fault we're empty-handed if you don't start doing what I fucking tell you.”

“You're an asshole!”

“Please, just let her go!” I tried again. “Just take her money and let her go! I called the police. They'll be here soon.” I wished I had done that.

“Shit! You heard that? We need to go! Now!” He pointed at me while looking at his partner.

Sam reached out to me. “Lara! Please help me! Help!” Then a bulky hand smacked flat over her face. She yelped as her head snapped to the side against the brick wall.

“Shut. The. Fuck. Up!”

Sam glanced with quivering jaw at the finger that was pointed at her face and then looked back at me with pleading, glistening eyes, her make-up smudged down her cheeks—banks to rills of tears.

I didn't care about the odds. I darted forward.

“Fuck! Just deal with her!”

“What?” The smaller man's head flicked confused from his partner to me. “Shit!” He brought his arms up just before my body collided with his. I drove him past the second thug and Sam until we crashed into a large dustbin and tumbled to the ground.

“Lara!” Sam's voice.

I pushed myself off the groaning body beneath me hearing the other man yowl close by. “Fuck!” he shouted, and then Sam shrieked again.

“Leave her alone!” I said through gritted teeth while rising to my feet. I wanted to get to her, but a hand clasped around my ankle. I lost balance and almost fell back down to the ground.

“Hey, where are you going?” a voice growled at my feet. He got up on his knees, his hand still firm on my leg, but his eyes looked past me. He wasn't talking to me. I turned my head to Sam. The taller guy had his hand back over her mouth, dragging her backwards into the alley.

“Stop! Let her go”, I shouted.

“I'm getting the fuck out of here. Since you're fucking useless and couldn't even get the car, I'm gonna try and get there myself. Just get rid of that girl and follow!”

“Screw you! Shit!”

I tugged at my leg, trying to get out of the hold.

“And hurry, for fuck's sake! You know what's on the line.”

I shifted my weight onto my captured leg and kicked out with the other. He cried out. Two more kicks and his hand released me. Freed from his grip, I turned around and was taken aback for a moment as I watched Sam stomp down on her captor's foot and throwing her head back into his face. He staggered. Our chance. I dashed forward.

But something tugged on my ponytail throwing me off balance once again. My body was jerked backwards. A hand grabbed the hem of my jeans and suddenly my surroundings swirled in a sickening flurry until I collided with something solid. A metallic rattle echoed between the buildings.

“Just... stay down, okay? Wait for me! Let's get out of—Hey!”

I shook my head in an attempt to unscramble my coordination. Screaming, shouting and squealing sounded in my ears. My hands fumbled around trying to figure out which surface was the ground. When my senses finally came back to me, I got back up to my feet.

Sam was sitting on the ground, thrashing at the smaller man who was trying to get a grip on her. The other one stood doubled over and winced, one hand on his knee, the other hand over his face. Good girl.

The hurt man looked distracted enough. If I could disable the second kidnapper somehow, we might be able to make a run for it. Aiming for him, I took off. Just when I was about to lunge at him, my momentum came to an abrupt halt. An arm slammed into my chest from the side, knocking the wind out of me.

“Just what the fuck do you think you're doing? Get lost already!” The taller kidnapper had straightened himself again. He pushed me backwards and I floundered. A head taller than me, he towered over me trying to look as threatening as possible, but I just glared at him with clenched fists and baring teeth. He was bewildered.

His partner grabbed Sam's arms and pulled her up.

“Let her go!” My voice bristled with rage.

“Holy fuck, what a fucking mess. I'll deal with this bitch. Make this one shut up and get her out of here!” He turned back to me and strode forward, tensing up his arm muscles in an attempt to intimidate me. I didn't back down. I needed to get to Sam, but there was no way past this guy. Sam was struggling to fend off her attacker, scratching at his skin and pummelling his chest. She earned a punch in response. Her cry made me tremble.

I saw red. My heartbeat in my ears, my hearing was clouded, my vision fixed on the body in front of me, everything else became hazy. My feet moved by themselves.

I closed in. My fist shot out, slamming into his abs. He gasped. A strike with the ball of my hand into his solar plexus, another into his mid and he bent over, backing away with a pained expression, wheezing for air.

His coughs were music to my ears. I had taken him by surprise; he hadn't expected me to round on him like that. Bastard.

His hunched posture made his head the obvious target. I struck, and again, and again. My hands went numb as they drew blood from his face; a painful, tingling sensation as extension of my forearms. I wasn't done, he was still standing.

His back hit the wall behind him. I struck upwards—the heel of my hand into his chin. His head snapped up—his neck temptingly exposed. My hands clutched at it, thumbs pressing into his windpipe, drawing rattling sounds from his throat that motivated me to increase the pressure.

It was a mistake. The break in my assault had given him the moment he needed to regain some sense.

His arms came crashing down into mine and broke my hold onto his neck. I hadn't even seen the movement of his next attack; I could only buckle over his knee as it drove into my guts. The involuntary sharp breath I took sucked spit into the windpipe. But I wasn't given time to react. As the cough reflex kicked in, my head was pulled upwards by my hair. I had only a fraction of a second to recognize his forehead before it collided with my face. Then, his fist came down out of nowhere. Movement restricted by his hold on my hair, I couldn't dodge—my head spun sideways with the impact, scalp smarting from the pull on the hair roots. My arms shot up in defence—too late. Fire exploded in my cheek as his fist slammed into the side of my head like a hammer. I blinked the dots in my vision away, and just as my eyes refocused on my surroundings, my head was jerked back. A blur in front of me. It smashed square into my face.

The pain spread out in my head, pulsing agony in the front, throbbing headache in the back. A metallic, viscous fluid glued my tongue to the bottom of my mouth.

My hair was released; my head flopped around. I was shoved, and staggered, dizzy from the beating. Realization hit, as though he'd knocked some sense into me instead of the opposite: I was now on the receiving end. What had I been thinking? You call that improvising? I desperately needed to find another way to neutralise him.

Wheezing in front of me. “Fucking hell! Now I'm pissed off!”

I only had a second to recover before another, painful impact threw my head around. A wet feeling seeped down the front. Surroundings hazy, I staggered backwards. I'd lost balance. My arms flung around, trying to find some kind of support. Nothing. I tripped, fell, and collided with something solid.

The familiar metallic rattle echoed; back at the dust bin. My hands scrabbled about, seeking something to hold onto, as I sank down. My fingers caught on something, some kind of plastic, a bin liner. I instinctively clutched at it to keep myself upright, but it provided no support; instead, it came down with me. I hit the ground. Clanking above me. I closed my eyes and felt the impact of several objects falling down on me. Then something crashed onto my head and clattered over the ground. The foul, rotten smell of days old rubbish penetrated my blood-stuffed nose.

I opened my eyes. Pieces of glass glittered on the dark cobblestones. In the middle, the stump of broken bottle.

Right behind it—two fast moving boots. I tried to curl up too late. One flew through the strewn rubbish and drove into my gut. My body flung back against the dust bin.

“Fuck you!” His boot came flying again. My body jerked, my abdomen constricted, the pain multiplied.

The sensation of hurt was overwhelming and clawed at my consciousness, fogging my mind. A few more hits and I'd be at their mercy—and Sam lost. I had to do something. Now. But down on the ground, squirming in pain, I wasn't in the position to act. I had to create an opening.

I winced as I tried to tense my sensitive abdominal muscles to brace myself for the next impact I was sure would come.

And I was right. “Fucking bitch!” It was as if his foot tried to drive my guts out of my body through my back. Bitter bile shot in and then out of my mouth, burning on my tongue.

But this time, I didn't let him retreat; I held onto his leg. Blinking, I could make out the broken glass in front of me. My other arm shot out. With one swift movement, my hand enclosed the bottle neck and drove the other, sharp edged end into his calf. The scream that followed was ear-splitting—and satisfying. I pulled the bottle out and stabbed again. He fell backwards, and I lost grip on him and my improvised weapon, but it had served its purpose. He clutched at his leg, yelping; a dark stain spread out on his trousers.

This was my chance—our chance—to get away. Hands still on the ground, I stumbled away from the pained screams behind me. I tripped, fell back down, only to pick myself up again and get back to my feet, hunched over my aching stomach, spitting dark saliva onto the ground. My eyes darted around, trying to get a grasp on my surroundings.

Sam. There she was, looking bewildered at the other thug in front of her, slowly backing away from him. His hands covered his eyes as he cursed her in pain.

“Sam! Come on, we need to run!” She looked at me, first confused, then focused. She hurried over, I grabbed her hand and we took off.

“Fuck! They're getting away!”

“Who cares? Just let them!”

“No fucking way!”

“Mate! We have to get away before the police come.”

I glanced back. The taller man stood up only to falter grimacing and holding his leg. He started hopping forward in our direction anyway.

I picked up pace, tugging on Sam's arm, but she couldn't keep up.

“Lara!” she cried out and got slower. I looked at her pain contorted face.

“What's wrong?” 

She pointed down at her bare feet. A small trail of blood behind her. “I stepped on something. I can't...”

The thug came closer, getting faster, fighting through his injury.

I turned my back to Sam. “Come on!” Sam didn't hesitate. Flinging her arms around my neck, she jumped on my back. I grabbed her legs and ran as fast as possible, ignoring the stinging misery my body was in.

When we approached the café, Sam said, “He's gone.” Feeling safer now that other people were around, I slowed down and allowed myself a breathing pause. I spat out another shot of saliva and blood before looking up at Sam; her reddened eyes met mine.

“Are you okay?” we both said in unison. Sam clearly looked very upset. I hadn't even had the time yet to process what just had happened in the past 10 minutes.

Sam leant down to press her lips on my forehead. “Thank you so much,” she whispered.

“Anytime.”

She looked down at me for a moment, her expression saddening. One arm still around my neck, she started to rummage around in her handbag. “What a shitty day,” she muttered and pulled out a hankie that she ran over my mouth to wipe away the blood that had seeped out of my nose and my cut lips.

“Sorry”, I said.

She sighed. “Not your fault.” The tissue was stowed away in her bag before she put a hand on my head and placed her own chin on top.

The conversation died for some time while I carried Sam past the odd looks of the café's patrons.

The silence was broken when Sam started snivelling quietly. I wished I'd been able to take her into my arms, but getting her home and patched up was more important, so I carried on.

After a while, Sam took a few deep breaths to calm herself. “I didn't even get to get drunk,” she said resignedly.

“Let's patch up your foot first. And then... I think we still have a wine bottle we can down.”

“Sounds good.” She ruffled my hair.

* * *

It turned out there wasn't as much booze left as I'd thought. After raiding our first aid supplies and patching ourselves up, we sat on the couch, and downed the rest of the wine. Silent, and lost in thought, Sam's shuddering body in my arms. When the sitting position became too uncomfortable for my battered stomach, I put Sam, who seemed to have calmed down, to bed and retreated into my own with an ice pack and some painkillers.

Too wrought-up to sleep, I lay staring at the ceiling, in my head the lingering remains of the panic I'd felt in that alley at the thought that Sam could be taken away from me. Apparently, she'd purposely left her mobile at home. What if she hadn't reached the telephone booth? What if I hadn't found her?

She would have been gone. Just like that. Maybe forever.

But she was not. She was safe, here in her bed just a few meters away. I knew that. Yet, I couldn't shake off the feeling that I should make sure that that was really the case. That she was still there and not gone. It was irrational and stupid.

Groaning, I got out of bed anyway. Just when I turned on the light, the door to my room opened a bit and Sam sneaked in. She looked surprised for a moment to see me standing in front of her, but then her face fell back into a bleak expression that made me knit my brows.

“Hey, I...” she began and then hesitated. But she didn't need to finish the sentence. I drew her into my arms again and she relaxed into me, sighing heavily.

A minute or two later, I released her, slipped back under my duvet and held up one side for her to follow. We snuggled up to each other and drew the cover up to our chins. I closed my eyes and let out a breath of relief. Having Sam by my side put my mind at rest and planted content where there had been gnawing worry a few minutes ago, as if her body heat warmed my soul.

As I began falling asleep, Sam kept me awake by putting a hand on my cheek. “I'm so sorry”, she whispered. I glanced at her and saw her frowning at the bruises on my face.

“Don't. If it means keeping you safe, I would... You're here, that's all that matters.”

There was a flash of a smile before her expression became unreadable. She bit her lip and then leant in to kiss my cheek. Her lips lingered on my skin for several seconds before she retreated with a smirk. That was an unusual gesture, even for her, but it didn't feel awkward, I had to admit.

I ruffled her hair a bit as she scrutinized my bruises again, stroking my skin with her thumb. “Does it hurt much?” she asked with concern.

“Not as much if you don't touch it.”

“Shit. Sorry.” Her hand snapped back under the duvet.

“I was joking. I took some painkillers.”

“Screw you,” she muttered and made a face.

I pressed her into me and smirked. “Now lets try to sleep. We'll go to the police in the morning, okay?”

Sam turned off the light and we relaxed into the pillow, our limbs wrapped around each other. As I was falling asleep again, I wondered, What would I not do to keep her safe?


	11. Make me!

Thinking about that night still gave me the creeps. It's unbelievable how some assholes can screw you over in the blink of an eye. The first week afterwards had been the worst. I hadn't dared to be outside after dark and always took the busiest streets. Going to the police to complain had helped a bit, but we both didn't really expect anything to come out of it, so it could only do so much to ease our minds.

Lara had tried to look strong. I think she'd done it for me because it must have been obvious that I hadn't been okay. But I'd been able to see that she'd been different, too. She'd been so worried, but I had to admit that it was really cute how much she cared about me. Things slowly normalized then and we picked up our daily routines again; Lara being her usual workaholic self, and me finding new ways to spend my free time when Lara was busy.

Therefore, meet Sarah, a college friend. She was one of those people who, if there was something interesting to tell, would share it with half the college. Not the kind of person you'd want to tell your secrets. But she was tons of fun to hang out with and a decent binge-drinker. Lara had met her a few times when I dragged her to some parties.

Anyway, Sarah had told me very animatedly about this drawing class she was taking and tried to convince me to give it a try, but drawing and painting and the like had never been my strong point so I didn't really see the point. But then she'd argued that some anatomy study might actually help me with my filming, might give me ideas how to capture people better.

Okay, why not? I hadn't anything to do that evening anyway and Lara was working her new side job again. While she'd soon taken on shifts at the Nine Bells again after our run-in with those dikcheads, she took a week off from whatever other job she had. And the strange thing was that I hadn't even had to force her to treat her bruises.

Anyway. I picked Sarah up from college and drove her to her drawing class. It took place in some oldish brick building in East End. We entered a room on the second floor. A series of easels and wooden chairs with seat cushions were set up so that you had large windows and the afternoon sun in your back. Most of the chairs were already occupied with eager students. Sarah introduced me to the teacher, said that I wanted to give the course a try and they set up an extra easel for me. Of course I didn't have any equipment, so Sarah—who was seated next to me—lent some of hers. I nicely set up the canvas in front of me and scrutinized the pencil, trying to figure out which end you point at the paper, when the nude model—who was still wearing a robe—was led into the room.

I was wondering how awkward it is to stare for one and a half hour at some nude dude, when—

No way!

I couldn't believe my eyes. It was Lara? I squinted at her. It was Lara! I—I mean, why... Wow, no wonder she'd been so secretive. She must have been really desperate for the money to buy those expensive books she wanted. And... What were the chances? That I, of all people, would end up here when she...

I was still trying to process everything, when she was led to some cushion-covered pedestal a few meters in front of us, turned her back to the course participants and took off the robe, now wearing nothing but one of her plain panties. So now I was trying to process that I was staring at Lara's butt and bare back.

There had been awkward moments—awkward for her, not me—at home where I'd run into her room or the bathroom in the “wrong” moment. But you don't really sit down to stare in those situations. So this was... new. And, oh god, she looked great.

Please, don't turn around, I thought. I really could only handle so much right then.

Lara was clearly hesitating in front of that pedestal; I could only imagine how incredibly awkward she must have felt that moment. She was always pretty shy when it came to stuff like that. I actually felt sorry for her. But only until she climbed onto her designated place and got down into some half-lying pose, facing us.

I got a good view for several seconds before ducking behind my easel. Staring at the white paper in front of me, I concentrated on the memory of what I'd just seen, while the teacher started talking about some anatomy stuff and gave instructions for today's class. The words entered one of my ears, rushed past Lara's naked breasts that were now etched into my mind, and flew right out the other.

The floor creaked as the teacher walked around the room. Hoping that Lara was concentrating on that in an attempt to avoid the stares of the people in front of her, I dared another look.

Ever since I started having a massive crush on Lara, I wanted to hit that. I'd always found her very attractive, right from the moment where I'd asked her to go dance with me—best decision ever—but I'd never thought much about it. She was my BFF, and that was that. But yeah, you can't deny she's hot—without even trying, and she also has this amazing cuteness bonus—and there were just so many little and big things about her that now drove me crazy—in a good way—and eventually sent me to my bunk. Yes, I admit, I'd thought about her in some intimate moments, imagined her body, what it looks like, feels like, remembering what she smells like—and cursing myself for doing so afterwards. At least I could properly answer one of those things now.

She was lying on her side, her head propped up on one arm, her cheeks flushed, her anxious eyes restlessly following the instructor. The tousled hair, without a scrunchy to hold it back, freely fell over her shoulders. Her... beautiful, perfectly shaped breasts lay on top of each other, moving hypnotically with the deep breaths she was taking. She was so nervous that her entire body must have been tense, because you could actually see a bit of abs, thanks to the angle of the afternoon sun and Lara's gymnastic classes—not to mention her strenuous trips with Roth. Her other hand lay on her hips, her thumb nervously scratching at the fabric of her panties. Her muscular legs were bent a bit. Her toes moved around, curled up, relaxed and moved again.

I was having such a massive Lady Boner.

My eyes darted back to her chest. It was captivating. I felt the strong need to walk over and take her breasts into my hands. Couldn't she just, like, stop breathing? So that I could take my eyes away?

“Anything wrong?” the teacher's voice suddenly came up behind me. I dropped my pencil. Ducking behind my canvas, I took deep breaths to calm down from the heart attack I just had. “Why don't you start?”

Nervously fidgeting around on the chair, I coughed and tried to make my voice deeper so that Lara wouldn't recognize me. “I... I'm still figuring out how to... breast the initial problems and... uh... tackle the task at hand.” Sarah gave me a really quizzical look.

“Don't be shy. Why don't you start out with the line of action and take it from there? Maybe your friend can give you some further pointers.” 

“Yes, action. Good idea. I'll do that,” I muttered.

“You dropped your pencil.” And with that the instructor strolled away to talk to another student. With one swift ninja movement, I picked up the pencil avoiding being seen by Lara.

“Are you okay?” Sarah asked with her brows in the hairline.

“Yeah, I just—need a moment, yes.” I leant back into my chair and exhaled at length.

“Okay,” she said and went back to sketching. I eyed her a bit jealously. How the hell was I supposed to draw anything coherent when Lara was lying naked five meters in front of me? My leg started bopping up and down and my hands clawed into the chair while I tried to figure out what to do.

My eyes scanned along the canvases when I suddenly noticed one of the other students giving me this really odd look, kind of judgemental. Probably thought I had no idea about drawing and had just come here to stare at the nude model. Just seeing this look, I wanted to jump up and shout: “It's not that! The problem is that it's my Lara! Can't you see?” And now Sarah was looking at me curiously again as well. Didn't they have Lara's perfect body to stare at? Fine! I straightened myself, took the pencil and put it on the paper. Okay. So far so good. What now?

I slowly peeked around the edge of the canvas—and quickly retreated. This was a bad idea. As much as I wanted to appreciate Lara's body some more, obviously, she didn't want me to know that she was doing this—understandably from her point of view. And just imagine for one second how awkward things would get between us if Lara found out that I was here... staring at her. No thanks, I really couldn't need that.

Sarah poked me in the shoulder and made some hand movement to go on, nodding animatedly. My hand slowly moved to the right, the pencil scratched along the paper making a vaguely horizontal line. Apparently pleased that I'd managed to make a start, Sarah returned to her own sketch. I checked my phone. Oh, god. Only 15 minutes passed. Maybe I should just tell her that I wasn't feeling well and get away ASAP. But I still needed to drive her home. Geez.

The instructor came walking back into my direction and looked at me. I took a quick glance at Lara and started drawing some odd, round shapes on the line that may or may not have been recognizable as head and torso. Could have also been a diagram of a broken pair of glasses. I had no clue what I was doing, but apparently it was enough to avert attention from me. At least that of the teacher. Sarah was now curious about my progress again. I sighed and risked another look...

And met Lara's eyes. Which promptly widened in horror. I disappeared behind my paper again and slumped down in the chair. Well, shit. Stupid. I'd been so stupid. Why hadn't I snuck away? I felt the strong need to stab the pencil through the paper.

Well, everything was too late now anyway, so I popped up from behind my canvas again and waved at Lara with an awkward smirk. Her already flushed face had visibly reddened meanwhile. She mouthed a “Why?” and then quickly pointed with the hand on her hip first at me and then on the ground. I nodded in Sarah's direction. Lara looked at her for a moment and then recognition dawned on her. She looked mortified. Her eyes rolled upwards and she formed a pistol with the hand on her temple before putting it over her eyes and shaking her head. Someone cleared their throat and Lara got back into pose. Her eyes wandered back to me and worry was written all over her face. I shrugged at her, making a sympathetic face.

“Hey,” Sarah said suddenly. Her eyes darted curiously back and forth between Lara and me. “Are you communicating with her?”

I jerked my head back. “What? Who? Me? No.”

She squinted at me and then at Lara. “She does look familiar. Hm... Do I know her?”

“Who? Her? Why? No. I don't know. I don't know her. Never seen before. I'd remember a body like that.” My hand shot up to my mouth. Sarah raised her eyebrows at me before turning back to Lara, whose face was in complete shock.

“Come to think of it, she does kind of look like... What was her name? Laura?”

“Lara?” I laughed nervously. “No way. We share a flat, remember? I'd know if she was nude modelling. Besides, she doesn't have such long hair. And frankly, you know how posh and prudish she is, right? She'd never do anything like this.”

Sarah looked at me, obviously considering my words. She scratched her neck, scrutinized Lara one more time and then nodded. “Yeah, no way. You're right.” She went back to sketching and I let out a long sigh of relief sinking so deep into my chair that I almost slid down to the ground.

After I managed to collect myself, I peeked around my easel again. Lara had a sad expression and nodded towards Sarah. Not knowing what or how to tell her, I just raised my shoulders.

Since the situation was past saving, I thought I might as well try sketching now, if I could take my eyes off Lara. I repositioned myself so that I could see her without having to awkwardly look around the paper all the time. But it turned out that looking at her naked body was even weirder now that she knew that I was looking. When I tried to get a glimpse, our eyes met again and we both looked away embarrassed.

In an attempt to ease the tension and lift Lara's mood a bit, I folded a corner of the paper around and wrote “You're gorgeous” on it. I hesitated a moment. Was that too much? Oh well. I straightened the paper and pointed with a finger at my writing. After Lara had read it, her eyebrows still stayed knitted together in the middle of her forehead, but the corners of her lips curled up a bit. I couldn't stop my hand; it added on the paper “your boobs too.” Lara read, glanced at her chest and then closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. When she opened her eyes again, I'd written, “So, wanna hook up?” I batted my eyelashes. She rolled her eyes. After they finished their round, she playfully shook her head a bit and stuck her tongue out for a fracture of a second. I knew we were joking, but it actually stung. I mouthed a “Why?” and she just shrugged smiling.

I was so going to regret that later, but I had to retaliate, right? I wrote, “I need a souvenir then.” I fished my cell phone out of my pocket and slowly held it up next to my easel, the lens pointing at Lara. Her eyes widened and she put an arm in front of her chest.

“Lara?” the instructor said, drawing her attention. Lara opened her mouth and glanced back at me, but I'd already put the cell away and held the pencil up at the paper. She closed her mouth again and pressed her lips in a thin line. “Could you please...” The instructor made a movement with one arm and Lara reluctantly put her hand back on her hip. She looked back at me and I had my cell phone out again. She glared, her head shook in tiny but really fast movements—almost vibrating. When my other hand started circling around in front of the phone, her fingers clawed into her skin.

“No! Stop!” she mouthed at me.

“Make me!” I mouthed back with a grin.

She twitched for a moment as if she was actually going to get up and tackle me down, but then her eyes scanned through the room along the easels and she stopped herself, looking back at me with a scowl. And with an excessive, theatrical movement my finger landed on the screen. Lara clenched her fists and if looks could kill, I'd have died a thousand deaths right there. One of the students cleared their throat, drawing Lara's attention. She tried to relax again—obviously unsuccessful. She glowered in my direction and quickly flipped me off.

I must have clearly been suicidal, because I fiddled around with my phone and held its screen up at her in response—which was set to my Facebook. I wiggled my eyebrows. Now she looked like she might die. Her eyes closed and her pose kind of collapsed, her cheeks were on the brink of combustion. She made a grievous face as if her life had just ended. Wow. Okay. Maybe I shouldn't have done that. She didn't actually take that serious, did she?

I wanted to communicate to her that I was just joking, but her eyes stayed fixed on the ground in front of her for the rest of the class, her face was kind of pale. I felt really sorry, but couldn't really tell her. When I realized that she refused to look at me again, I wanted to pass the time by trying to sketch, but it was impossible to concentrate. So I poked some holes into the paper with the pencil instead.

When the time was up, Lara took the robe the teacher was handing her and disappeared through a door. I put my canvas away and gave Sarah her stuff back. When we stepped out of the front door, I stopped her.

“Hey, uh, can you wait a moment? I wanna go back and ask a few questions.”

“Yeah, sure,” she said and took her cell phone out.

I went back into the class room, but no one was there, so I slowly tiptoed into the room Lara had disappeared into and looked around. She was sitting on a bench, hunched and staring at the floor, elbows on knees, hands threaded together behind her neck. She was in her underwear. I sighed. I really didn't want to handle Lara in underwear right now.

I carefully knocked on the door frame anyway. “So, will you model for me at home now?” I tried to quip.

Lara raised her head with a scowl. Her eyes were slightly red. Uh oh. Wrong approach. “Having fun with your snapshots?” she spat at me.

Woah. I groaned audibly and handed her my mobile phone. She was confused for a moment, then snatched it out of my hand and started tapping away at it. When she realized that there was nothing to find in the gallery or my Facebook, she handed it back and said meekly, “Sam—”

“Eh, it's okay,” I interrupted her and shrugged.

She stepped up to me and her arms flew around me. “I'm sorry,” she said into the crook of my neck. Well, wow. Those one and a half hours had clearly taken their toll on her. I wondered what horrors she'd been picturing while brooding.

“I'd never...” I said petting her head, trying to calm her down. My other hand slid up and down her bare back. My eyes closed and I couldn't help it; I immediately thought about Lara's naked body and I silently cursed myself for it.

“I know,” she said pulling me out of it. She was leaning back a bit and looked into my eyes. The look she was giving me... it was captivating. She was showing so much emotion. My hand reached up and brushed her cheek. I...

“Miss Croft? Oh, hey!” A voice shot through the room startling both of us. Way to ruin the moment. We stared at the instructor who was pointing at me, looking concerned at Lara. “Do you need help? Is this okay with you?”

“What? I'm not—“ I wanted to protest.

“Her? Yeah, we know each other,” Lara interrupted me.

“Oh, okay. Well, I'm sorry. I'd love to give you two some alone time, but I have to leave and need to lock the rooms.”

Lara hesitated for a few seconds, obviously struggling for a reply. In the end, she just gave a nod, her cheeks visibly flushed. “We'll be out in a minute.” The instructor left and Lara glanced at me chuckling.

She wanted to turn to get her stuff but I stopped her holding her at arm's length. “You know, you seriously couldn't have looked more uncomfortable during that class. Please, just let me buy you those books!”

She looked downwards, conflicted. “Okay. Thank you,” she said eventually, smiling at me.

“Good girl.” I patted her cheek. “Hey, I'd love to wait for you but I actually managed to make Sarah believe that you weren't the nude model. So it'd be kinda strange if you suddenly showed up.”

Lara looked at me, her expression full of relief; then it shifted and was kind of unreadable. Suddenly, she leant forward and pecked my cheek before turning around and going back to the bench where her clothes and rucksack lay.

“Okay, see you later,” I murmured and floated out the door.


	12. I wish you'd never been born!

I was lying on the couch watching TV and trying very hard to distract myself from the memories of that art class earlier that day, when Lara finally came home. It was past midnight and she looked very tired. She stepped out of her shoes, dropped her rucksack unceremoniously in the middle of the living room and yawned, “Hey,” before flopping onto her back in front of me on the couch. She smelled of cigarette smoke and beer; the typical aroma of the Nine Bells, or any other pub actually. Lying on my side with the back against the backrest, I looked at her and brushed a strand of hair to the side that was clinging to her forehead.

“Hey yourself,” I said. She smiled weakly at me, hardly getting her eyelids to part more than a few millimetres. “So, are you gonna take off your clothes so that I can make some sketches while you lie on the couch?”

Her cheeks quickly took on a pink shade. She shoved my shoulder and groaned. “I'm not going to live that down, am I?” When I shook my head grinning, she put an arm over her eyes and grunted, “I wish you'd never been born.”

“Hey!” My finger poked her in the side.

She winced. “Please, not now. I'm so tired.” She moved closer to me and when she bumped into my arm, she raised her back so that it could slip under her. Then, she hesitated. She twitched as if something was bothering her. Her eyes opened a bit to glance at me. “Sorry, I—“ She paused; her lips formed a thin line. “I need a moment,” she murmured. My eyebrows shot up when her hands reached behind her back into her shirt, then into each sleeve pulling two straps over her arms, and finally into her cleavage. Her bra flew onto the table, followed by a long breath of relief from between Lara's lips. One of her arms wrapped around my neck and stroked over my head. Her other hand found my arm that poked out from under her and enclosed its hand. Closing her eyes, she relaxed into the couch. “Let me nap,” she whispered.

I was lucky she hadn't looked at me. There was no way that I wasn't blushing. “Don't you wanna go to bed?” I said, carefully putting my head on her shoulder.

Her head shook slightly. “Only if you carry me. I can't move anymore. Besides, I'm very comfortable right now, thanks.”

A smile crept onto my face.

Her breathing quickly slowed down. I turned off the TV and buried the remote behind me in the couch before shifting closer to Lara. My head sank into the crook of her neck. Among the smell of the pub that was cloaking her, there was still a clear scent of her own to be picked up. I sniffed, enjoying her aroma, and breathed out slowly against her skin. She was so close. I wanted to press my lips against her neck and kiss it, suck at it, taste her, leave hickeys.

But I couldn't. I pulled back trying to suppress my desire. I forced my eyes away. They turned down—and regret immediately settled in. 

They had a clear view into her neckline and down her cleavage. With nothing underneath, I could even clearly see the raising in the fabric of her shirt where her nipples were. My eyes flickered up to check on Lara as if I was afraid to get caught staring. I looked back down into her shirt. Unable to turn my eyes away again, I stared at her chest once again that day and I had such a vivid memory of her naked breasts from the art class that it was almost like having x-ray vision. The image was back in my mind how they'd been lying on cushions and moved with each deep breath she'd taken.

I'd been so horribly turned on for hours ever since that class that I'd been very close to rubbing off earlier that evening to my mental picture of Lara's gorgeous body. Instead, I'd decided to suppress everything by watching TV and it was coming back to bite me in the ass now. I actually also needed to get up in the morning and if I didn't do anything about my current situation, I was going to be wide awake all night long and very dead all day long.

Trying to get up, I wanted to pull my arm up from under Lara, but she grumbled quietly and snuggled further up to me. “Lara,” I whispered and stroked her cheek. The response was her head nestling up against mine. Well, so much for that. I actually felt sorry for trying to wake her up anyway because she was so tired. So sorry that I didn't try again. I sank back into the couch and sighed. Lara absently put my hand that she was holding on her bare belly—her shirt had slipped up a bit when she'd reached into it to unclasp her bra.

Not helping, Lara, I thought.

Okay then, it was either getting off the couch and waking Lara up in the process or...

I glanced at her peaceful face, sighed and started to fumble with the button of my skinny jeans. It took forever to open them with one hand and pull them down a bit. The process had actually been so bothersome that I hoped the situation had resolved itself. Unfortunately, one glance at Lara made clear that I had no luck there.

“Sorry,” I whispered and slipped my free hand into my panties.

It slowly glided down the mound and into the heat between my legs. The middle finger slid between my swollen folds and brushed my slightly erect clit. My thighs closed around my hand. Finally touching myself after so many long hours of unsatisfied arousal was so good that a moan escaped my lips.

My eyes flew open. But Lara's were still closed, her breathing as shallow as before.

My head shifted closer to her again. I took in the warm air in the crook of her neck, my lips brushing her skin. My finger started a circling motion in my panties in a reluctant rhythm as I mouthed, “I love you,” against Lara's neck.

My heart was thumping; it was so strange to finally declare my love to her in her presence, even if she didn't notice. I wanted her so much to return my confession, but I knew it wasn't going to happen.

This was no time for slow intimacy in any case. I badly needed release and give both of us the rest we required. My index finger joined the middle one and they started rubbing along both sides of my clit.

I pecked her cheek again and glanced at Lara, making sure she was still asleep, before my concentration switched to my other hand. It slowly moved over the skin of her belly. The fore finger slipped into her belly button and played with its nub. From her shoulder, I looked down into her cleavage again and at the bases of her breasts and little fabric-covered mounds on top. The sight was hypnotic—I wanted to rip her shirt off her body, cup her breasts and take those nipples into my mouth and suck on them. I bit my lip at that thought.

The strokes in my panties picked up in pace, my breathing got heavier. She was so close to me. So close. I drank her scent. My head turned slightly, my nose moved through her bangs, my lips pressed against her cheek. One of my legs snuck between Lara's as I snuggled up to her just a bit more, my panties-covered hand pressing against her hips, its index and middle fingers squeezing down harder around my clit as they continued stroking back and forth. I was getting close.

But I wanted more—needed more. I couldn't control myself. There would be time for regret later. I kissed her cheek. My lips parted slightly giving way for the tip of my tongue that started licking up her cheek. The heel of my other hand slid over her belly, the fore finger circling around in the well of her navel. “I love you so much,” I whispered into her ear.

My head dropped back onto her shoulder. Sweat broke out between my shoulder blades, my breathing hitched. My back arched, pressing my chest into the side of her ribcage as the much needed release washed through my shuddering body. I bit down hard into my lip to suppress a moan that was building up deep in my throat that finally emerged as a soft cry into Lara's neck. My fingers stroked a few more times dragging out the sensation and then stopped.

I took a few deep breaths and looked—

Into Lara's tired eyes widened in shock. They darted up and down between my eyes and my hand in my panties.

It was like an instant blood transfusion; I felt all of it drain from my face while hers began to glow red.

“I—It's not what it looks like,” I stammered.


	13. I bought ice cream!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to Viridian Carn from fanfiction.net for beta reading.  
> 

I inched away from Sam and almost fell off the couch.

She looked so mortified, and I was sure I had a matching expression. She lay frozen, staring at me with hollow eyes that glister a bit more with every blink.

“You're still sleeping. It's just a dream”, her trembling voice said as she pulled her hand out of her knickers and hid it behind her back.

“I—I don't have this kind of dreams.” The words came without thinking—something I wasn't capable of at that moment, considering, that I'd just woken up to a scene my drowsy brain couldn't process.

A few moments ago, Sam's face had been mere centimetres away from mine. Cheeks flushed, eyes closed, she'd seemed lost in the moment. Breathing heavily through slightly parted lips, her warm breath had pleasantly tickled my skin. Her body shifting against mine, a leg sliding over my thighs, a finger playing with my navel, sending a funny feeling into my belly. Her other hand—moving quickly in her knickers. Her body had begun to shudder, and she'd bit her lips, breathing through her nose until a soft moan rolled up her throat, through her pink lips and into the crook of my neck. I had goosebumps. I...

“You're missing out.” Sam pulled me back into the present.

Her jaw began to quiver, her eyes pressed shut. She shook her head. With shaky arms she scrambled away, climbed over my legs and off the couch. “I'm gonna get a snack. Want anything?” she said robotically, and pulled her skinny jeans up, wiggling her slender hips into them.

“Sam”, I made a half-hearted attempt to make her stay without the slightest idea what to say.

She froze until she pulled herself out of it, and trudged away into the kitchen.

I sank back into the couch. The scene I'd woken up to etched into my mind, I stared at the ceiling. Confused and tired, I tried to forget what had just happened, but the moan that had slipped out between Sam's lips resonated in my head. I'd never seen Sam like that before. And up close. Or had I? I remembered when I'd had a tantrum after Sam had tried to kill my last bit of sanity with popcorn while I'd been stressed over a difficult project. The next morning, I'd woken up to a similar scene, I realized. I closed my eyes and sighed. I really didn't want to think about any of that right now. I just wanted to go to bed and back to sleep, and try my damndest to ignore everything that had just happened. I dragged my tired body off the couch and towards my door. When I reached for the handle—

“Shit.” Her voice in the kitchen. A thud. “Shit. Shit. Shit.” Another thud.

I closed my eyes and leant my head against the door. It was tempting to just open it and lock myself in. But I couldn't do it. Sam was upset, and I couldn't leave her that way again—I didn't want to. I was worried about her, she'd been quite unstable lately. The last time I'd left her in such a state, she...

I sighed and shuffled into the kitchen.

Déjà-vu.

Sam stood, hunched over the kitchen counter. Her head was in her hands, which she had propped up on her elbows. Her fingers were shivering over a large cup between her arms.

“I bought ice cream. Want some?”

She shoved the cup over the counter towards me, fumbled around in a drawer without looking and plunged a fork into the cold mixture. She pulled it out again and stabbed it back in a few more times as if to make sure it were dead.

I watched her for a while. “I...” Actually still didn't know what to say.

“What?”

“Uh. Are... Are you—“

“Stop!” Her knuckles turned white around the fork handle. “Can we just not talk about this? I couldn't sleep. I'm sorry. Okay?”

“I wasn't...” Ugh, this was going to be hassle. I needed to be careful.

I reached out, wanting to put a reassuring hand onto hers—that had just been buried between her thighs. I hesitated and laid it onto her shoulder instead. Sam's face scrunched further up beneath her fingers when I touched her.

“But—Are you okay?” I asked.

“Why?” She looked up, her pink cheeks and red eyes in stark contrast to her pale face. 

I shrugged while stroking my upper arm with the other hand.

“Because I rubbed one off? People do that.”

I stared at her. “What? No—yes, ugh, but you... I mean...”

I pressed my eyes shut and pinched the bridge of my nose. She hadn't just 'rubbed off'; she'd done it right next to me! Or even to me? Oh, God. I... I didn't want to think about any of that. But my brain betrayed me. That look on Sam's face when she'd... When she'd come. I felt my cheeks redden. I quickly opened my eyes again, and let her frustrated stare take my mind off my thoughts.

“Can—Can we forget about that for now?” I tried anew. “I'm just worried about you.“

“Why?” She looked at me for a few seconds and then relaxed a bit. “I'm fine”, she murmured. Her eyes wandered off until they focused on the ice cream, which she then grabbed and held up to me. It looked like a desperate attempt to change the subject.

But that wasn't so easy. I glanced at her hand again and backed off a step. My face heated further up.

“Geez. I've washed my hands, okay? Godamnit.”

“I... I didn't...”

Shit.

I wanted to apologize, but she put the cup back down and buried her head under her arms, muttering curses into the counter.

This wasn't going well. Words were failing me. But something had to be done. I was reaching out to stroke her back when she straightened herself pushing my hand away.

“Night”, she said and wanted to storm off.

I couldn't let her go like that. I grabbed her arm and Sam instantly tugged at it trying to get out of my hold.

“Sam...”

“What? What do you want?”

“I—I just want to make sure you don't do...”

“Don't do what? Anything stupid? Is that what you wanted to say?” She looked at me, and my chest tightened. Eyebrows deep and meeting in the middle, lips pressed into a thin line, a tear running down to her quivering chin.

Crap.

I'm not good at this; I was at a loss as to what was happening or what to do. I wanted to calm Sam, help her, but somehow I just managed to make things worse. Maybe she would have been better off if I'd disappeared into my room instead of trying to help her. I felt so sorry for her without knowing what was going through her head.

Taking me by surprise, she tore my hand off her arm.

But before she could run away, I stepped into Sam's path with speed belying how tired I was. Not giving her a chance to react, I wrapped my arms around her and embraced her tightly. It was my last resort. It was Sam after all; she'd never turned down a hug. She'd always been the more touchy-feely of the two of us.

But Sam stiffened. “What are you—Let me go!” She struggled against my hold.

“Not until I think it's safe to do so.”

She breathed heavily. “Can you please just let me go?”

“No.”

“Lara—”

“No.”

Sighing, Sam slumped a bit, her resistance died down.

“I just want you to be okay”, I said and put my head on her shoulder while gently stroking her back. Her shoulder wasn't the most comfortable cushion, but the warmth of her body and the closeness to her certainly were comforting. Hopefully I had the same effect on her. I closed my eyes and yawned into her neck.

“You're tired. You should go to bed”, she said. Her voice was calmer. When I just shrugged in response, she added, “You need sleep.”

“You're more important”, I murmured.

Sam took ragged breaths and sank into me, losing the rest of her stiffness. Her arms slowly wound themselves around me.

It seemed like I'd finally said or done the right thing. With relief and happiness taking over my tired brain, I pressed Sam a bit more into me. Her hands started moving over my back. I felt so comfortable now, I could have fallen asleep again right away, hadn't we been standing around in the kitchen instead of lying in bed—or on the couch. Ugh. Why on earth did I have to think about that again? I frowned.

“Lara... I...” She was so quiet I almost didn't hear her. A long, warm breath tickled down my back before her head leant against mine. Her arms tightened around me and she grabbed a fistful of my shirt. “Do you like me?”

I opened my eyes and glanced at Sam, but I could only see the back of her head next to mine.  
What kind of question was that? And what had prompted it? I began fumbling with the collar of her shirt. What was I supposed to reply to that? Sam had always been quick to speak her mind—without holding back. But things like these don't roll off my tongue easily. My heart thumbed harder against my and Sam's chest. I swallowed and said: “You know I love you, right?”

“How much?” she whispered and then I felt her lips against my neck.

I froze. My eyes widened, goosebumps rose all over my arms, a frisson of excitement let my heart race. What was she doing? “S-Sam?”

Sliding over my skin, her lips closed and then broke contact only to kiss my neck again and again slowly moving upwards. Confused and baffled, I tried to move away only to stumble. Sam held me steady. She tightened her hold on me, and when I regained balance, she gently pushed me backwards. With no room for movement of my own, I could only follow her lead. We took a few small steps before she had me pinned against the wall. My back hit the light switch, the room went dark.

Sam snuggled up to me, squeezing a leg between mine, pushing it further bit by bit until her thigh pressed against my crotch.

My breathing faltered, I was paralysed. I could only grab a few bangs of her hair at the back of her head and stare into the darkness that shrouded our kitchen. I—I should stop her, shouldn't I?

Sam's arms undid their embrace, her hands slid down my back and over my behind before wandering up. They rested on my hips for a moment before sneaking under my shirt and inching upwards over my skin. Her lips had found a sensitive spot under my ear which she caressed with kisses and gentle licks.

What was she doing? What was I doing? Cold sweat broke out, my hands felt damp, the heat was drawn out of my body to concentrate in my head. My heartbeat was in my throat.

Sam placed kisses over my cheek, her warm breath brushed my skin. Her hands glided up my sides, over my ribcage and stopped at the base of my breasts. Her lips had reached the edge of my mouth. Then she stopped. She leant back and looked into my eyes.

And I could only stare back at her.

Sam's eyebrows slowly moved to meet in the middle. She pressed her lips together.

“Shit”, she muttered before her head sank onto my shoulder. “What am I doing?”

She straightened herself again and looked at me. Her hands withdrew from under my shirt to stroke my cheek. “Fuck, I'm sorry. Can—Can we just forget about tonight, please?”

She placed a kiss on my forehead, grabbed the cup of ice cream, wished me a good night and left to vanish into her room.

I gazed into space with wide eyes and opened mouth. It took a while before my legs started walking me out of the kitchen. I opened the door to my room before closing it again behind me. My back fell against it and I sank down where I stayed frozen for a few minutes.

But my brain wasn't able to form any coherent train of thought that could have told me what to do—nor rationalize what I was feeling. My initial plan to go to bed and ignore everything sounded very tempting again.

Hoping I'd be able to fall asleep sooner than later, I got back up. Before going to bed though, I went to my wardrobe and changed my wet knickers.


	14. Kiss my ass!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many, many thanks to Reasons Lost from fanfiction.net for beta reading and his support!

Oh, sweet sleep deprivation.

I was so dead. My head hurt and the remaining parts of me felt alien.

I didn't know how long I'd been tossing about sleeplessly and neither could I get myself to turn and look at the clock, but judging from brightness in my room, it had to be late morning and I'd probably missed at least one class already.

Without any drop of motivation, I rolled to the side and faceplanted out of bed. It took me a whole three minutes to pick myself up and get into something that might have resembled a standing position—if you didn't look too closely. My body held it for about five seconds before dropping back down onto the bed.

Not that I wanted to get up, but I'd ignored the day long enough. At least it was so late that there was no way that Lara was still around. She must have left hours ago.

Forcing myself back into a sitting position, I had only one thought.

Coffee. Lots of coffee.

Which was in the kitchen. Requiring me to stand up and walk there.

My head fell into my hands. It felt like it was drifting away, detached from the rest of my body, and the only thing holding it down were those heavy weights called eyelids. I pressed my palms into my eye sockets and immediately regretted it; my eyes caught fire and tried to quench it by tearing up.

I'd hardly slept at all. Occasionally, I'd drifted off into some trance-like half-sleep accompanied by crazy nightmares that left me drenched in sweat and wanting to not sleep at all. My mind couldn't shut up because I'd been stressing about Lara all over again after the idiotic crap I'd pulled off last night. Ironically, it all had started with me rubbing off next to Lara so that I could get some rest.

That had worked out well.

And why the hell had I hit on Lara like that? God, I was so stupid. To cement that realisation, I smacked a palm against my forehead. The best thing I could do was to act normal, let things settle, and avoid Lara for a while. Again. Even though it was the complete opposite of what I wanted. But it served me right. Maybe I'd learn to control myself one day.

My self-loathing got interrupted by my wailing stomach. I gave the empty ice cream cup a frown and forced myself upright with a groan. Sitting around worrying was just going to drive me crazy anyway.

Dragging myself forward, I reached the door, and it creaked in tandem with my arm as I opened it up and stepped out—into Lara.

Our heads collided, cries of pain, flailing arms, clashing legs, shuffling feet. Lara's balance got lost in the confusion. She toppled backwards, her hands held onto me, she fell, so did I—onto her.

Why me? I sighed into her shirt between her breasts.

The one day I didn't want to see her at all, she had to be still around close to midday and cause... that. Couldn't she just vanish? Like right now? I didn't even want to look at her. Though, besides everything I had to admit that it was also kind of comfortable to have my face where it was. Wait. Hadn't I said something about controlling myself?

“Uhm,” Lara said.

I looked up from her chest to see her rubbing her forehead while staring at me. “What the fuck are you doing here?” I said.

“I—I live here?”

“Shouldn't you be, like, gone?”

“I overslept.”

Lara? Oversleeping? I raised an eyebrow.

“I couldn't sleep well,” she added low.

I wonder why... Fuck my life. I rolled my eyes and crawled off her. After forcing myself yet again into a standing position, I held a hand out and helped Lara up.

“What do you want? Why were you blocking my door?”

I realized, I shouldn't have asked that. She wanted to talk. The talk. I froze when the realisation hit me. Oh, god. Please, no, I thought. I couldn't deal with that right then. Or ever.

Lara shifted from one leg to the other and moved a bang out of her face.

I should have fled before she could say anything. But part of me wished that she'd get out and over with it after all the stress I'd been in in the past weeks because of her so that I could finally jump out the window. Well, I'd probably had to hobble into traffic afterwards because we lived just on the second floor, or first floor as Lara would have said.

“I... You...” She stammered and tugged at her shirt to straighten the fabric.

The tension was killing me, I could hardly breathe. 

Lara looked up at me and said: “My—My pen ran out. Can I borrow one?”

I exhaled at length and felt like collapsing to the ground.

Fuck you, I thought. Why had she tortured me like that only to then drop such bullshit? I felt the strong need to smack her over the head. On the other hand, I was way too dead to deal with anything at all, so I accepted her cheap excuse by shrugging and stepping to the side so that she could enter my room. At least I could live a few more hours or days with the illusion that there was still a way for me to fix everything.

Leaving Lara behind, I disappeared into the kitchen. When the coffee machine was set up, I grabbed a bowl of cereal and turned around.

Lara stood in the door frame and looked at me.

She startled me, making me almost spill my meal. “Geez, are you stalking me?”

“Wha—No, I... I just wanted to eat breakfast.”

“With my pencil?” I pointed at her hand.

Lara was clearly not done with me yet. And I was still not ready for her. I had to eat my breakfast and get out of there asap.

I sat down at the table and shoved some cereal into my mouth.

Lara took some yoghurt out of the fridge and a seat across from me. Staring down into the cup, she poked around in the mixture with a spoon.

Here we went again.

I looked at my meal and felt sick. The fear of what Lara might have to say was wrenching my stomach. The spoon almost slipped out of my sweaty fingers. I was going to lose half my hair if that kept up.

I probably should have just skipped breakfast. On the other hand, I was renting that flat. I had the right to eat in peace in my home.

Lara had to leave then.

Looking down into the bowl, I stirred the milk as my thick wool socks slipped forward under the table. When they bumped into Lara's toes, she jerked up. I put my feet onto hers and started stroking hers gently. I had to suppress a chuckle when Lara cleared her throat nervously.

But she stayed. I had to up the ante.

I slipped out of a sock with the help of my other foot. My eyes wandered up and we looked at each other. I shoved a load of cereal into my mouth while my naked foot sneaked into her pyjama leg to inch up over her skin.

Chewing with relish, I watched Lara's spoon clattered over the table.

She jumped up from her chair and pointed at the door. “I... I... I...” she stammered and fled with the yoghurt in her hand.

I let go of a long breath of relief while sinking so deep into my chair that I almost slid under the table. When the sock was back over my foot, I forced the mouthful of cereal down my throat. I gave the bowl a frown and leant back to wait for my stomach to unknot itself.

That morning. Geez. I sighed.

Once again, things were not going the way I wanted them to. At least I had my peace for a while. But I should probably have worried about the fact that Lara fled from my touch instead of taking it lightly. Granted, I was exaggerating it on purpose. But what if I was really making her uncomfortable now? And she wanted to tell me to stop it, to stay away. And she was just um and erring because, well, because she's Lara and she was trying to find a polite way to tell me off.

Fuck.

I was doing it again: Catastrophizing. And it was working. I looked at my soaked cereal and felt like throwing up. So much for breakfast. Why did Lara have this effect on me? It was frustrating. I desperately needed some stress-relief.

I went to the door and carefully looked around to make sure Lara wasn't anywhere close-by, before dashing into the bathroom to calm down with a hot shower and get rid of the layers of sweat that had built up since last night.

Fifteen minutes of peaceful de-sasquatching later, I left the bathroom refreshed and wrapped in a towel. I was already standing in the living room when I realized that I'd dropped my guard and forgotten to check whether the coast was clear. Fortunately, there was no stressing roomie camping any door, so I got into my cave unhindered.

After choosing my outfit for what was left of the day, I heard creaking behind me.

Sighing, I slumped. “What?”

Lara hesitated. “We need to—“

“I want to get dressed. Get out!”

“But I—“ She froze mid-sentence when I reached for the knot in my towel. Deadpanning, I tugged at the protruding ends of the cloth.

Lara raised her hands. “Can we please—“ she tried again.

No.

The knot opened. Blood shot into Lara's face as quickly as the towel fell to the floor. One second later, the door got closed from the outside.

2 : 0

Once dressed and ready to stay away from Lara for the rest of the day, I grabbed my bag and went to the front door. Of course, Lara had to pop up in the corridor while I was putting on my boots.

“Not now. I'm in a hurry. It's late.” I gave her a dismissive wave.

She sagged against the wall, sighing. “Just... Please be safe, okay? Don't do anything reckless.”

What was that supposed to mean? I was close to snapping at her, but she was giving me this worried look that derailed my frustration. Why did Lara have to be so cute when she was so motherly and caring? And why did it have to give me fuzzy feelings? Also, if she was just worried about me for some reason, maybe she didn't want to talk about last night after all and I was fleeing for no reason.

“Yes, Mom,” I said.

She observed me awhile with crossed arms. “You wouldn't be causing so much trouble if I'd been your mum.” A smirk replaced the worry on her face.

“Kiss my ass!”

“You'd like that, wouldn't you?” she murmured.

I stared at her.

When she saw my expression, she shook her head and put a hand on the back of her neck. “Sorry. You rub off to me.” Her eyes widened. “On me. On me. Shit.”

That was my cue to haul ass. So much for what was on her mind. In an instant, I was out of the flat, down the stairs, and out on the street.

2 : 1


	15. Shut up!

Unlike that shitty morning two days ago, I'd done a decent job at channelling my Japanese ninja-genes and dodging Lara since. Shit, I should listen to myself. Yeah, I did a very good job avoiding the one person I truly loved. I was such a wreck. Though, after that night where I'd accidentally forced my feelings onto Lara, I could only give her room to process everything—not to mention that I'd had absolutely no clue what to say to her anyway. The one upside of the situation was that I hadn't been as productive in a long time; I'd locked myself into my room and got assignments done I'd already stalled for weeks.

When Lara and I had spent time together, our interaction felt awkward and distant, and she always eyed me when she thought I wasn't looking. It was hard to bear. Being around her was difficult and being away from her just as much. I had no clue what to do nor where I stood, and was too afraid to ask her. I was such a wreck—with no balls. It put me under constant stress, and I desperately needed to work some of it off.

Instead of partying hard as usual, I'd gone to the gym that day. The last time I'd been at a club I'd ended up sulking at the bar, telling off everyone who'd tried to hit to me, and drowning my sorrows with one sip every five minutes. I couldn't get our argument out of the head where she'd snapped and said I was acting like...

Fuck it, I thought. She wasn't my mom. Not like I ever listened to Mom...

Anyway, gym.

Sarah had called me in the morning and asked me what I was up to today. We'd spent a lot more time together recently, and I'd also joined her for that art class again, producing pretty decent sketches. She was a much needed distraction from my domestic drama, always funny and friendly—even more so recently. It seemed she'd picked up on that something was going on. The more I distanced myself from Lara and spent more time with Sarah instead, the more it seemed Sarah tried to become closer with me.

So, when I'd told her about my plans for the day, she'd been like, “Gym? Sports? What is that? Who are you and what did you do to Sam? Count me in!”

Pshaw! So yeah, most of my fitness took place on the dance floor, but she'd had obviously no clue about the awesome hiking trips I'd done with Lara around the world, even though I always plastered the social media with photographic and video-evidence when one of them occurred. But Sarah seemed genuinely interested in my adventures, so I had something to brag about while we groaned and whined in the gym—at least until I was out of puff. Only, it stung thinking and talking about happy times with Lara so much.

We were just leaving the place after our self-inflicted torture, when Sarah stretched out her arms with this big, goofy grin. “Gosh, I'm high on some bodily chemicals I didn't know I had. I feel so energized. I'd suggest crashing some party or club...”

I looked at her in horror, massaging my aching limbs, which felt more like I was trying to plug them back onto my torso to prevent them from falling off. “Feel free to go back in for another round. I'm dead and sore.”

With a chuckle she let her arms fall to her sides. “Yeah, me too.”

I was both relieved and disappointed that she backed down from her suggestion. I was way too exhausted for any further strenuous activity, but had she insisted, I'd have joined her. Despite feeling like any movement could be my last, the workout with her had left me excited, and I didn't want the afternoon with Sarah to end yet.

She came a step closer to me. “So, want to hang out at your place then? I could give you a massage.” She waited for the curious look I gave her before she continued. “And I'm dying to see how luxuriously you live in your flat in the bloody city centre. You know, I screwed up. I'm stuck in a lumber room in a shared flat, practically on the other side of London. Look how scraped up I am just from turning around in my living square metre.” She drew back a sleeve and pointed her elbow at me. Of course, there was nothing out of the ordinary.

“Yeah, you'll need a bone transplant soon.”

“Right?” There was such worry on her face and in her voice that—if I hadn't known she was joking—I'd have believed she was convinced there was something horribly wrong. Without a change in her expression, she added, “You could kiss it better, though.”

I scoffed at her, but let my hand glide over arm, which made her faux-worried look crumble. After pulling the sleeve back over her arm, she swung it around my shoulders and leant in. “So, Sam. Am I invited?”

While I watched her expectant smile, my hand fished for my cell. The movement was almost reflexive, and only halted when I realized it was Saturday. Lara should have been at the shooting range and head straight to work at the Nine Bells afterwards. I stared at the screen in my hand for a few seconds before it slipped back into my pocket. “Yeah, sure.” I felt Sarah's eyes bore into my side. “What?”

“Nothing.” She shrugged with a smirk.

I eyed her while we strolled towards my car. Despite the bitter taste it left me with, I wanted to see where the afternoon would go and let Sarah take my mind off everything—one day where I didn't agonize over Lara. My arm wound around Sarah's waist. She beamed at me.

When we got close to the car, Sarah pointed back at the gym. “You know, this was kinda fun. We should do that again.”

“Masochist.”

“Maybe. But watching you die during those last exercises? So worth it.”

“At least I looked good while dying.”

“Touché.” She winked at me and got into the car.

The early afternoon traffic slowed the otherwise short drive, and Sarah bridged the time by filling me in on the latest college gossip. A ton of gossip. She was just rounding up her report when we reached the door to the apartment.

“That must have been so embarrassing. And within no time everyone in her class knew about it. Even her prof got wind of it, and suddenly that club declined her application because, apparently, they had no spot left for her any more. Yeah, right. Okay, so, the whole thing wasn't cool and pretty disturbing, and I'm sorry for the girl, right? But...” She looked around as if to make sure no one was eavesdropping even though we were standing in the flat's entry area. She came up to me, put her phone into my hands and whispered, “if you want to check it out for yourself...” She gave me a wink and stepped out of her shoes and into the living room.

I raised my eyebrows at her cell. Not feeling the slightest need to see what she just had told me, I ignored it and followed Sarah instead.

She'd planted herself with spread arms in the middle of the room and took a deep breath. When I walked past her towards the couch, she put a hand onto my shoulder and said, “I need a moment,” before stretching the arm out again. She exhaled soundly and glanced at me as I flopped down onto the couch. “You'll give me the TV, right?”

“Sure, if you buy us a better one.”

“With your money,” she scoffed and kept looking around the room until the memory wall caught her attention—photos of all the fun stuff me and Lara had done together.

Sarah stood glued to the spot in front of the frames and scrutinized the pictures. The longer I watched her, the deeper my eyebrows sank until they fell into my hands with my head. Inviting Sarah had to be another mistake in my series of mishaps. For a moment, I imagined I hadn't alienated Lara with my accidental confession, and she just needed time to sort her feelings out because I'd jumped her with mine in such an awkward way. Maybe—just maybe—she wasn't uncomfortable around me and she loved me the way I loved her and a relationship was possible after all. What were the chances though? For two years we'd been friends, and if you have an eye for it, you can read people's romantic interest in you even when they try to hide it. Lara never showed any signs of that sort. Two years—and suddenly my stupid heart decided to fall for her. Well, I'd always had a crush on her, but I'd pushed my feelings aside in favour of staying friends with her. I'd liked Lara ever since the moment I'd first seen her and didn't regret any minute I'd spent with her since. Maybe I'd enjoyed them a bit too much in the end, as it became impossible to suppress my feelings. I loved her like I'd never loved anyone before. And chances were Lara didn't share my feelings and I might lose her over them. My stomach dropped. I closed my eyes and clawed my fingers into my temples at the returning headache that had been my constant companion at the time.

Desperate for distraction, I picked up Sarah's cell and skimmed through the gallery. After all, I'd invited her over so that I wouldn't lose my mind over Lara. When I heard movement, I peeked up to see Sarah disappear into the kitchen. A minute later, she came back drinking one of Lara's fruit drinks Sarah must have taken out of the fridge. With a smile, she gave me a second can, as if rummaging through other people's fridges to hand them their own food was perfectly friendly. I accepted it with a thanks anyway.

She sat down next to me making a face at her cell in my hand. “If you find any selfies on there, please burn them.”

“I'll send them to my phone first,” I said and demonstratively continued to browse through her photos.

“That...” She pointed a finger at me and leant closer, “I wouldn't mind,” she breathed and I couldn't help glancing at her glossy lips. The need to grab her by her cheeks and press her mouth into mine took over my mind. She shifted up to me on the couch looking like she thought the same. I wet my lips in preparation, but instead of giving me the kiss I was craving for, she looked down at the screen leaving me staring at her blond curls. A gasp from Sarah drew my attention back to the phone. She muffled a giggle. What the screen showed me looked suspiciously like me doing awkward contortions at the gym.

“Sarah...”

“Hey, you looked pretty hot in those shorts. Not my fault you poke your bum at me.”

“I didn't—“

She ruffled my hair with a wink, and stood up. With a little wave she walked away into Lara's room.

I sank back into the couch, rolled onto my belly and smacked my head into the armrest. I wondered what the hell I was doing? Inviting her over had to be a horrible mistake. But her flirting and the attention she was giving me—damn it—I liked it, and I was craving to let go of all the anxiety and stress that had been piling up. Not to mention she was cute and pretty. Everything about her was appealing to me right then.

I twisted around on the couch to get a good viewing angle at Sarah through door. I felt a twinge of guilt that I hadn't stopped her from invading Lara's privacy, but she just stood there taking in the scenery and the occasional sip from the drink. What she had in front of her was mountains of books, maps, papers, print outs, riddled with coloured post-its. I hadn't been the only productive person in this household the past week; Lara always had something important to work on. She was going to work herself to death one day.

“Nerd,” Sarah assessed with a chuckle, and stepped up to Lara's opened wardrobe.

“Hey,” I called out. Lara was going to kill me if she found out someone looked through her clothes. “You don't want to wear that.”

“I agree,” Sarah said and came back into the living room. “Is your room mate as boring as her wardrobe?”

With lowered eyebrows, I bit back a retort because I didn't want to put her off. It seemed she didn't want a reply anyway. She put her empty drink down on the table, patted my head giving her thanks, and went on towards my room.

“Want anything else? Something to eat? Or will you help yourself to that as well?” I said a little grumpier than I intended before getting off the couch to follow her.

“I'll get to that in a second,” she said so low I almost didn't catch it.

When I entered my room, I found a black lens pointed at me. “So, this is the rare Nishimura in her natural habitat.” She took a step towards me, holding my camera close to my face.

“It has zoom,” I sneered, leaning away.

“Do you want me to press all those buttons until I find the right one?” Without waiting for an answer, she started doing exactly that.

“Uh, no, give me that!” I felt uneasy seeing her play around with my most prized tool of the trade. When I reached out to recover it from her, she spun away and hunched over it.

“Oh ho, getting protective? Is there inappropriate footage on here?”

“You wish. But if you delete my project material, I'm gonna delete you. Give me—“ Shuffling around her, I tried to see what she was doing and get my baby back, but whenever I reached out, she turned away giggling.

Sarah enjoyed teasing me way too much, so I stopped my efforts and wrapped my arms around her instead. It had the intended effect. She calmed down and straightened herself with a mischievous smile on her face. “Guess we have to make some then.”

To my relief, the camera was put back down on the dresser. Sarah twisted around within my hold, her arms winding themselves around my neck. Her eyes met mine, her bottom lip drawn back between her teeth, her chest moving against me with breaths that picked up in pace. Her mouth opened as if she was going to say something and then closed again. Instead she flashed the unwavering smile she'd been giving me all day. But her happy façade was crumbling. Her lidded eyes studied every nuance of my face until they stopped to linger on my mouth. The gasp was barely audible. She wet her lips as her cheeks took on a rosy shade. That craving expression she was trying to hide was enticing. My pulse quickened and my damp hands grabbed a fistful of her shirt.

Sarah was a step up from a random hook up at a club, right? It was Lara I wanted, but she wasn't the one who hit on me, nor the one who gave me the attention I needed right then. It was Sarah who mustered me patiently with bright blue eyes. It was Sarah who smiled at me, the corners of her pink lips pushing into her cute, freckled cheeks. It was not Lara who dragged her fingertips up my neck and into my hair, her thumb caressing my cheek. It was Sarah who was about to lean in and ravage me with those hungry lips she couldn't hold still, or so I thought. The way she'd flirted had made me expect her to dive right in given the opportunity, but something made her hesitate. The anticipation made writhe in her embrace. Maybe she was waiting for me to do the next step as sign of my approval, and I would have hadn't the gnawing feeling that I was committing a mistake held me back.

Sarah grinned. “Sorry, I need to savour the moment for a bit.” Her hand glided up my face and back down through my hair. “Gosh, I've been waiting for this forever,” she whispered and bit her lip again.

I raised an eyebrow at her.

“You're funny, friendly, bright, spontaneous,” Sarah said in a breathy voice while her blush deepened.

“You're not too bad yourself,” I said with a smirk to which she shoved my shoulder. Then she leant against me, her mouth lingered almost on mine. I could feel her warm breath on my skin.

“And you're hot,” she added with a smirk. I thought she'd finally go in for the kiss and parted my lips in anticipation, but she dodged them to whisper into my ear, “I've had a crush on you for ages.”

My eyebrows shot into my hairline. Shit, I thought as worry took over I would lead Sarah on if I gave in to my need to let go. What we were doing had to be a mistake. The thought to tell her crossed my mind and then was driven out by the way Sarah looked at me. She wanted me, and I craved to give in. I could basically feel Lara staring at me with judgemental eyes, but I didn't want to think about her that day. She wasn't there and it wasn't like Sarah was a fling, all things considered, was it? I just wanted to let go of the stress for a while and let Sarah drive the frustration out of me.

I'm a goddamn idiot, I thought as my arms slid up Sarah's back to press her into me.

She was eager while I still hesitated. She dug her hands into my shirt and wasted no time to latch onto my mouth. She tasted of peach from the drink, and I couldn't stop myself from thinking about Lara again as I licked the remaining drops from Sarah's lips. She took it as invitation and caressed my tongue with her own before slipping the tip between my teeth. I exhaled heavily, breathing out uncertainty, and opened up my mouth for her. And just like that, she sucked my reservation out of me.

My hands snapped down and started fumbling around at the hem of her jeans. Sarah made a surprised noise and her teeth clacked against mine when she had to grin. She paused the kiss to lock eyes with me. “Had I known you wanted me too, I'd have jumped you in the car at the gym.” She closed her eyes again and rejoined our lips. Desperate to get into her pants, I ripped the button and zipper open and shoved my hand into her underwear. Not that I needed any more incentive, but that little shudder she made when my fingers slid between her legs made me crave for more. Tugging at her blouse was enough for Sarah to break our messy kiss to tear the shirt and bra off her torso. Before I could appreciate her chest, she shoved me backwards against my wardrobe. A sudden noise made me startle.

_Lara._

My heart skipped a beat. Frantically looking around, my eyes fell onto a coat on the floor that must have just fallen off a hanger. I exhaled at length and slumped down.

Sarah put a hand onto my cheek and turned my head and attention back to her. “You okay?”

“I just thought... Nevermind, just trippin'.” My fingers between her thighs started moving again making her relax and roll her hips against me. Her blush and those deep breaths she was taking took my mind off my worries within a second. We shared a smile before she looked down. Her fingers sneaked under my top and wandered up my front exposing more and more of my skin as they pushed up my shirt. Her hands glided over my belly, along the bottom of my ribs, and reached around my back to unclasp my bra. That needy look she was giving me—I wanted more of it. I removed my hand from her panties and offered Sarah a cocked leg she mounted to grind her crotch against as I pulled my shirt and bra over my head to throw them out of sight. Sarah leant back to appreciate the view. Her eyes fixed on my breasts, her smile gave way for a gorgeous look of arousal. I loved that I could excite her like that. I was ready to give her more of me.

“You like what you're seeing?”

She looked up at me and pecked my lips. “You're so beautiful.”

“Then go on,” I whispered and put my hands behind her head to guide her to my chest. She hesitated as if she was trying to memorize the view before following my lead. She took one of my breasts into her mouth right away and the other into her hand. I slowly dragged my fingers through her curls while watching her with satisfaction. Seeing her so eager to explore my chest excited me as much as the feeling of her lips and hand on my breasts. Her free hand glided down my back and I couldn't wait for it to find its place between my legs. When it moved over my hips to grab my behind, she halted making a surprised noise. I was baffled what had happened until I saw she'd pulled her cell phone out of the pocket of my jeans where I'd put it. She started up the camera app and grinned at me with expectation.

“May I?”

I'd have preferred to have our hands in each other's underwear, but I wasn't going to ruin her infectious mood, I was enjoying it too much. “Sure,” I said with a shrug and relaxed back against the wardrobe with my hands in my pockets.

Sarah giggled with excitement and took two steps back to shoot a photo. “Gosh, this is so awesome.” Her eyes darted back and forth between the picture on her screen and the original until she froze when she saw me open my jeans. I hooked my thumbs into my panties and pulled them down to show Sarah my neatly trimmed bikini line. It took her a few seconds to get hold of herself; I had to grin. She made a happy sigh as her cell clicked again.

“Now I have something to look at when I think of you.” She beamed at me, eyes wandering up and down my skin.

While I loved how excited she was about my body, I was getting impatient. I rubbed my thighs together and held my arms out to her. “Got enough?”

She took her phone down and shuffled back to me. I grabbed her joyful face by the cheeks and pulled her back against my lips. A second later, my hand was back in her underwear and she let go of a little moan into my mouth. One of her hands sneaked down my stomach and into my panties. Her fingers played with the hairs on my mound until they found their place between my legs. Before doing anything though, she broke our kiss. “Smile,” she said between breaths and grinned at the phone she held up next to us.

“Oh, come on.”

“Hey, I need some souvenir that this really happened. It's a dream come true.”

I made a resigned sigh. Instead of looking at the camera with her, I pecked her cheek when another click sounded. “Done now?” I said in between placing kisses down her neck.

“I guess I should stop or my phone might give up. I mean,” she pressed her lips on the top of my head, combing her fingers through my hair, “I can hardly handle you.”

“Shut up,” I said grinning into the crook of her neck.

Her back arched over my arm behind her waist, inviting me to her naked breasts. “Why? Do you only accept compliments from—“

Her question got cut off when my ass vibrated. The ring tone that chimed from my pants cut right through my mood—it was the one I'd set for Lara. My head fell back against the wardrobe, my stomach dropped. Shit, not now, I thought. I'd been happy and content for that short moment with Sarah. It was a fragile happiness, but I didn't want to be pulled out of it. I looked at Sarah and began questioning again what I was doing there with her. Still, the thought crossed my mind to ignore Lara's call. What if she needed me, though? Why would she call me when she should've been busy at the shooting range? I had to at least check whether she was okay.

I snatched the phone out of the pocket.“Shit, sorry,” I told Sarah, who watched me with raised eyebrows.

“You have to be kidding me,” she muttered and stabbed her finger into my shoulder.

I pulled an apologetic face at her, took a deep breath and accepted the call.

“Hey, Sam. Can you pick me up, please?”

“Speaking of the devil,” Sarah whispered into my other ear. She'd leant forward to listen in. I felt the need to escape her intrusion, but pushing her away seemed a bad idea after I'd already let Lara interrupt us.

“Why? What's up?” I said into my phone while giving Sarah a wary look.

Lara stammered around for a bit and then said in a resigned tone, “My bike broke down.” She knew what my reaction would be.

I groaned at length. “I've told you for months this relic is a danger to you and public safety.” I had to rub it in, especially considering my situation.

“I know, I know. I'm sorry. But please, can you pick me up?”

“Don't you dare,” Sarah whispered and then opened her mouth into my phone's direction. “Sam's—“ she began. In an instant, I pulled my hand out of her pants and pressed it over her face before taking a step away. I gave her some serious side-eyes.

“Sam? Sam, are you okay?” Lara asked.

“What? Yeah. Can't you take the Tube?” With Sarah losing her grip onto my mind, I felt a sharp twinge of guilt for having asked that. I should've been more ready to help instead of deflecting Lara, considering how often she'd dropped everything to help me.

“I had a little accident,” she said.

Suddenly, Lara had my full attention. “Are you okay? Where are you?” I blurted.

“Still at the shooting range. And I'm fine. Just a scratch.”

Just a scratch? Chances were she'd broken at least three bones. I never understood her tendency to downplay injuries. “Don't move! I'll be right there, okay?”

“Thanks, Sam,” Lara said with such relief, it made me smile despite everything. The call ended. 

I looked at Sarah, who was glaring at me with her hands on her hips, which stood in stark contrast to her bloodshot cheeks and how flustered she looked—and her bare chest. “You can't be serious!”

I was trying to look as regretful as possible. “Lara had an accident.”

“So what? Call a bloody ambulance!”

“I—I don't know what's up. I'm sorry, okay? But I really gotta go.” I stammered a few more apologies trying to ignore the intense tingling I felt in my groin as I hastily collected our clothes from the floor to then hold Sarah's out to her.

She didn't move. She kept staring at me with frustration and disappointment written all over a face, muttering something that sounded like, “Screw this bitch.”

“Sarah, please. She's my best friend and she needs me.” I waved her blouse and bra at her. It wasn't like I didn't feel very sorry for her, but there wasn't much I could do; I couldn't bail out on Lara. “Pretty please? I—I'll make it up to you, okay?” I said as last resort and stretched my arm with her clothes further out at her.

Sarah snatched them out of my hand and sighed. “Where is she?” she asked while adjusting her bra.

“London Bridge, south side.” I checked my phone's clock before pulling my shirt over. We'd already wasted minutes.

“Can you drop me off there at least? It's closer to my place...” She paused to put on her blouse and directed a frown at me. “Where I'll go to bed and masturbate.” I was about to apologize once more when Sarah stepped up to me. She put a hand on my cheek and moved it down my neck and chest. “When you dropped that Lara off, why don't you come over to my place?” She pecked my lips. “You can stay for the night—or the rest of the weekend. And I'll fuck you senseless in my tiny bed.”

She still looked so turned on—and it was me she wanted. It was flattering, I couldn't deny that. But Lara's call had cleared my mind. I'd been an idiot for giving in to Sarah's flirting and for wanting to sleep with her right after she confessed her crush on me.

Damn, why had I done that? 

I'd been so busy to put physical distance between Lara and me to avoid the consequences of my slip-ups, I'd begun blocking her off in my mind and letting Sarah in instead. If it was Lara who I wanted though, how helpful was having sex with Sarah—in our home? I should've told Sarah right then that I'd made a mistake, but I didn't have the guts. The way she was looking at me, flustered and so hopeful, I was unable to bring myself to crush her happiness. Besides, Lara was hurt and waiting for me. I had to figure out later what to do with Sarah.

“I'll think about it,” I told her instead and patted her cheek feeling guilty. Sarah leant in and gave me another firm kiss, which felt strangely like a mistake now; I had to stop myself from backing away. “Let's go, okay?” I said when she let me and dragged her to the apartment door, where we put on our shoes, and out of the building to my car.

The slow-moving Saturday traffic made me drum my fingers on the steering wheel. Clearly, none of these slowpokes had any idea Lara was hurt. I pictured her sitting on a bench, scraped up and bleeding, wincing while holding her arm. She was probably her stoic self, waving off concerned passers-by; 'I'm fine, thank you.' I wanted to get to her as quickly as possible. My foot stepped a bit more on the gas pedal as I weaved my way through traffic.

I was closing in on a yellow light when my phone chimed again. I thought it might be Lara asking whether I was on my way and I was ready to floor it when Sarah said,“I sent you my address.” I broke rather hard to stop at the traffic light in time making Sarah squeak in surprise.

“Sorry about that,” I said to her, “I'm...” I didn't feel the need to voice my concern about Lara's well-being again so I let the sentence trail off.

“So, will you come over later?”

I glanced at her and swallowed. “I—I don't know yet.”

Sarah didn't let my answer deter her. “I'll order pizza and we can watch some show you like if you want. And then,” she put a hand on my shoulder and let it glide down my arm, “we can pick up where your roomie interrupted us.”

I raised my eyebrows at her hand as it slipped down onto my leg. Her fingers trailed over my thigh. “Sarah,” I said pointedly when I noticed the traffic light change in the corner of my eye. I stepped on the gas.

She leant over from her seat propped up on my leg. “Just reminding you what awaits you.”

When her hand inched up the inside of my thigh, I gave it and then Sarah a pleading look. “I need to concentrate on the road. Can you please...”

“Hm?” She let her hand slip between by legs.

“Sarah!” I kept staring straight ahead. To my relief, her hand retreated. She reclined into her seat, arms loosely crossed, eyebrows low. Sudden silence. Guilt made an uncomfortable tingling spread out in my chest. “Sorry, it's just...” I pointed at the road ahead. Sarah looked at me, lips pressed into a thin line. I put a hand on her shoulder and stroked her with my thumb for a while before returning my attention where it belonged.

We approached the fourth red stop light. I checked my phone and sighed at both the clock and the message notification in the corner. Sarah touched my arm again and I worried she'd continue feeling me up. “Is there anything going on between you and Lara? Are you...”

“What?” I glanced at Sarah and met her quizzical gaze. “Are we what?”

She shrugged. “More than friends?”

Baffled by the sudden question, I wasn't sure what to reply. Theoretically, there wasn't anything going on—at the same time there was. Or at least I wished there was. In any case, I neither wanted to spill my guts to Sarah nor could I get myself to break the news to her that I was leading her on. I settled for a brief, “Uh, no. Not really.” My pulse picked up. I felt uneasy lying to her and my stomach contracted at the thought that she'd find out sooner or later about it. I had to tell her—just not now.

“You're quite—“ she made a pause in which I side-eyed her, “focused on her, you know?”

Duh, I thought. I'd fallen head over heels in love with Lara, of course I was focused on her. Instead of saying as much, I shrugged wondering what was up with the questioning. “She's my—best friend,” I said, hoping the pause hadn't been noticeable. “We spend a lot of time together,” I added. I stared at the stop light mentally willing it to change colors.

When it obeyed and the endless line of cars in front of us began to move, Sarah said more cheerfully, “Sometimes, it looked like you two...” She poked my shoulder and chuckled. “Imagine that.”

I do that daily, I thought. I was about to ask why the idea of Lara and me was so funny but figured I didn't actually want to hear it. I forced a “Yeah.” This conversation made me feel uneasy. The ride couldn't end soon enough, but London wanted to torture me by putting more stop-and-go traffic and a double-decker bus into the way. With an annoyed sigh, I picked up my phone.

“I mean, she's kinda cute, I guess, and...” Sarah chuckled.

I directed a wary glance at her; she had a smug smirk on her face. “Yes, she is,” I said under my breath so that it went under in the noise of the city. I ignored her vague comment and wrote Lara a message, “Sorry for taking so long. Traffic sucks. Almost at London Bridge. Please survive!”

”But, you know,” Sarah continued, “if you and your roomie were sisters—which is of course ridiculous—“

I stared at her baffled about her random idea. I couldn't help running it through my head though, and the mental image of how my childhood could have been had Lara been my sister brought a smile to my face. Then, my mind deteriorated into my current situation with her and an involuntary “thank God” escaped me.

”I know, right?” Sarah chimed up at that. 

We were about to get onto King William Street when the next traffic light tried to cut me off. I was hellbent on not letting it and stuck to the double-decker like a limpet, but the bus dragged its ass so slowly past the light that it turned red before I had a chance to beat it. I smacked my hands on the wheel and stopped.

Meanwhile, Sarah continued her train of thought, ”But anyway, if you were, I'd say you got all of the personality and then there was none left for her.”

“What?“ was my immediate reaction.

“I mean... Hm,” she paused to ponder on something, “not quite sure when I last talked to her. I guess when we met in that bar—“

“Actually, I dragged her to the campus party last month.”

“No way. You came alone. I remember chatting and drinking with you.”

“And Lara was with me.”

Sarah looked confused. It didn't surprise me. Lara had been quite busy with her projects and I'd tried to make her take a break. She'd been reluctant because she didn't know anyone at the party, but I'd assured her it'll be okay. It had turned out it wasn't. We'd met Sarah and since her and me clicked easily, we immediately had ended up having fun. I frowned remembering that when I'd checked on Lara after a while, she'd looked so lost and uncomfortable that I'd felt guilty for having dragged her there. I should've known better.

“Girl's invisible,” Sarah said and it stung because I could see what she meant, but she didn't know Lara the way I did.

“Just a bit of an introvert,” I said meekly. The light turned green, the struggle to get to Lara went on.

Sarah laughed in a snarky matter that made throw a glare at her. “Explains the way she dresses— Have you seen her wardrobe?” When I just stared at her blankly, she added, “Of course, you have. Anyway, no wonder she didn't draw my attention.”

“She doesn't want attention anyway.” We'd finally managed to get onto London Bridge when the traffic slowed down once again after the train of cars caught up to a truck. I sighed.

Sarah didn't seem to take notice of my comment. “Well, when she actually wears something,” she said as if a bit absent. What the hell was the meaning of that, I wondered. “I had quite the flashback when I looked at some of the photos on your wall. I know she was modelling in some of the drawing classes.”

I winced and felt blood shoot into my cheeks. I'd hoped she wouldn't realize Lara had been there. The last thing Lara wanted to happen when she modelled was that anyone who knew her would find out about it. She even shied away from telling me.

Sarah grinned. “Still waters run deep, don't they?” She poked my shoulder. “You were there with me. Have you seen her boobs? Okay, I admit, those...” Sarah whistled and groped imaginary breasts in the air.

I could only stare at her longer than I should have for road safety reasons. My cheeks caught fire. “Stop that,” I said reflexively.

“What?” she asked with a wink. Then her face fell as she gaped ahead. “Sam!”

I stepped on the brake throwing us into the seatbelts. The car came to an abrupt halt like the traffic in front of us had when the effing truck was stuck next to that stupid double-decker that had stopped at a bus station. Honking ensued behind us.

“Geez,” Sarah gasped and took a look around us.

“Told you I need to concentrate,” I muttered.

A knock on the window. Baffled, I stared into the red face of an angry man. When I didn't react to him, he opened my door. “What the hell?” I said in surprise and held onto the handle to pull it back but to no avail.

“Are you bloody insane?” he said, bristling with rage. “Did you win your licence at a fair?” He stared at me as if he expected an actual answer to that.

“I—I'm sorry.” I tugged at the door again.

“Oh, you'll be sorry if you keep this nonsense up. Women drivers,” he spat at me.

“Excuse me?” My knuckles turned white around door handle.

“No, I won't excuse you. Do you even have a driver's licence? Where is it? Show it.” He actually had the audacity to hold a hand out and make a come hither motion.

“I won't do fuck all. You're not the police.”

“They obviously didn't do their job if you're allowed to drive.”

“What the fuck is your problem? You didn't even crash into me!”

“You are my problem,” he leant down, “bitch.”

That's it, I thought and was halfway out of my seat to show him who exactly was about to be sorry, but Sarah held me back and called out to me, nodding towards the road. The bus had driven on, the traffic picked up pace again. I tugged at the door one more time to then smash it into the man's leg. The following cry of pain was music to me ears. He jumped back, giving me the chance to slam the door shut and step onto the gas.

“What an asshole,” I muttered more to myself than anyone else. Women drivers. What the hell was wrong with him, I thought and grunted while weaving through the traffic after the road had finally forked up into three lanes on the bridge.

“Sam.” Sarah poked my shoulder.

“What?”

“I just asked you whether... Uh, nevermind.” She cleared her throat. “So, anyway, where were we? Oh,” she said ominously and chuckled. “You think your roomie is into that stuff?”

“What?” I hissed.

“You know,” Sarah shrugged and grinned, “exhibitionism.”

I glowered at her before I decided to ignore her comment and concentrate on getting to Lara, who was bleeding out while I was still stuck in this god-damn traffic that slowed down again towards the other side of the bridge. I groaned and checked the clock on my phone. Even though the traffic was out of my control, it felt like I was skipping out on Lara.

“Kinky, little—” Sarah began again.

“Sarah!” I interrupted her before she could keep going. I didn't know why she was so keen on talking crap about Lara that day, but it ground my gears.

“What?” She dragged the word out, her happy mood unwavering. She watched me from the side waiting for a reaction.

“What's wrong with modelling? She—She just needed some money, okay?”

“Well, what else do you think she'd do for it? Maybe she'd—“

“Can we change the topic?” I said blankly feeling my pulse rise. My knuckles turned white around the wheel.

“But—”

I glared at Sarah. “Can you just leave Lara be and shut up?! What the hell is your problem?” My head had heated up; a burst of sweat tried to cool my skin. I immediately felt a twinge of regret for snapping at Sarah like that, but at least she backed down.

“Sorry,” she said meekly and reclined into her seat looking bewildered.

I took deep breaths in an attempt to calm myself. Usually, I loved her bubbly nature, but that had been uncalled for. I didn't care what the deal was with Sarah but no one talks down like that on the one person my heart belonged to.

Lara...

Thinking about her made my stomach knot, especially at the thought that a rejection from her was still very likely. That she hadn't told me yet how she felt after that night could have had a number of reasons. I didn't even know whether she'd be interested in—me, or girls in general. It was actually a miracle that in over two years, I hadn't been able to pinpoint her preferences. Whenever we'd been out and I'd thought I'd seen her flirt, it had always turned out she'd just been casually chatting. I'd teased her about her lack of sex at times but never pushed the matter because I didn't want to make her feel uncomfortable. So, what if she was going to tell me she couldn't reciprocate my feelings? How awkward would things become between us? Would she keep her distance, second-guessing any kind of body contact I initiated? That mental image hurt. How long could I bear the tension between us? Who would I turn to for solace? I looked at Sarah and forced a smile while trying to imagine hooking up with her. My face fell again when Sarah only acknowledged me with a quick glance.

When we finally reached the other side of the Thames, I zigzagged my way into a nearby side-road where I knew I could park. The car came to a halt at the curbside and I let out a breath of mixed feelings, the positive one being relief that we'd arrived at the destination. I glanced at the rearview mirror and grunted at the stream of cars in the distance that crept past the thankfully quiet byroad. Now, I just needed to find Lara as quickly as possible. As I reached for my mobile, the passenger door closed with a bang and startled me. Puzzled, I looked past the empty seat and through the window to see Sarah stroll away. Shit, I thought and jumped out of the car to run after her. What was it with me lately that I pissed off everyone I liked?

“Sarah,” I said as I caught up. To my relief, she stopped and turned. “I'm sorry. I just...” I took a deep breath and put a hand on her arm. “Sorry for snapping. That wasn't fair. I was... mad because of that asshat and—I'm just really worried about Lara.”

She considered me for a moment and then her face lit up. “Okay.” She stepped up and cupped my cheeks. “Just promise me you'll consider my invitation. You said you'll make up for it.” Her eyes sought out mine while she waited for a reply.

A twinge shot through my chest that dissolved into nausea in my stomach. I wanted to tell her right then how sorry I was, that I'd been leading her on, and wished I could have resolved the issue without hurting her, but I had no idea how. It had to wait; Lara needed me. “I—I'll think about it, okay? But I'll probably have to take care of Lara.”

“Isn't she old enough to look after herself? Just...” Sarah rolled her eyes and sighed. “Anyway, I won't keep you. Hopefully, I'll see you later.” She closed the last bit of distance between us and leant forward with a longing smile. I didn't want Sarah to kiss me, but it was the least I could give her. I felt the need to make sure no one saw us, but my head was firmly held in place by her hands. I took a steadying breath and let her guide my mouth to hers. Her lips moved against mine, her hands stroked my cheeks, and I felt sick. Before I could signal her to stop, she broke the kiss with a satisfied grin. “I'm sure your roomie will be okay. She doesn't look so battered.” Smiling, Sarah looked to the side and held a hand up.

My stomach dropped, blood drained from my face. Involuntarily, my gaze followed hers and—cheek on cheek—we looked at Lara staring at us from the other side of the road. Sarah patted my shoulder. “Laters.” Frozen in horror, I could only watch as she crossed the street and walked up to Lara to whisper something in her ear. Sarah gave me a little wave with a cheeky smirk and then strolled away. Lara locked eyes with me, her deadpan expression caught fire.

In a matter of one afternoon, I was sure I'd managed to destroy two friendships. My eyes welled up as they focused on Lara's red face. I just wanted to sink to the ground and sob.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks a ton to ReasonsLost for betaing, their patience and support.  
> Sorry for the slow updates.


	16. I can't do it anymore!

We stared at each other, eyes fidgeting, wanting to focus on anything else but unable break away. Lara was the first to move. She shifted her weight and winced, almost falling over as the supporting leg gave way. It was only then that I noticed her state. I took off to cross the street.

The leg of her pants was ripped, her exposed knee scraped and bleeding. Her shirt was dirty and clinging to her arm where its color had darkened with blood. She held her bike by the handlebar the detached front wheel hung from.

When I caught up to her and reached out, she drew back; it was a sucker punch to my raw nerves. Her crumbling deadpan was scaring me. I didn't know what reaction to expect. Sarcasm, the silent treatment, would she snap and insult me again? At least I would have known for once where I stood, but Lara remained silent and frozen. It was on me to break the ice. I dried my eyes on a sleeve and took a sharp breath through my nose to clear it. “On a scale from 'excruciating pain' to 'I'm gonna die any minute now', how 'fine' are you?”

“I... I...” Her eyebrows knitted, her cheeks colored in a deep blush, she tried to hold my gaze for a moment. Then she turned away to stare after Sarah who'd just reached the main road and vanished behind the corner of a building. “I'm... sorry. It's not so bad. I'll walk home.” She began hobbling up the sidewalk and dragged her bike along.

I was back at her side on the double. “Lara.”

“Sorry for bothering,” she droned without so much as looking at me. “I—I didn't know.”

“Please stop!” I grabbed her unharmed arm; she slowed to a halt. “Didn't know what?”

“You can go,” she mumbled with a lowered head.

“What? Go where?”

“Don't you want to run after... your girlfriend and...” Her breathing quickened. She shook her head and began moving again.

I stepped in front of her. “My what? Sarah? She's not—What did she say to you?”

“Nothing. Just go.”

“I'm not going anywhere. You're bleeding out! We need to get you patched up. Can we talk about this later?”

Lara frowned at me. “There's nothing to talk about.”

“Look. I know I messed up. I'm sorry, okay? Sarah doesn't mean anything.”

“Right,” she scoffed.

I ran a hand through my hair and grabbed a handful. The headache had returned. “Be as angry as you want, but I will drag you to a hospital, even if I have to carry you.”

We stood on the pavement unmoving for a while. I half expected Lara to push past me, but she stayed rooted to the spot.

“We can't take care of this at home,” I tried to reason pointing at her leg, “You have to let someone take a look at it.”

Her gaze lowered, and she slumped in defeat. It took a weight off my mind; a small victory that kept me from succumbing to despair. I took a deep breath and dried my eyes once more before taking Lara's bike out of her hands. Holding an arm open, I offered support, but she ignored me and limped towards the car. Seeing she would rather torture herself than accept my help was another painful blow to my guts. After releasing a heavy sigh, I rushed ahead to fold down the back seat and put the bike in the trunk. I got to the passenger door in time to hold it open for her.

She stopped in front of it and frowned down into the car. “I'll bleed all over your seat. It'll be a mess.”

“Are you kidding me? Just get in there. I'll get the seat cover cleaned. I'm not letting your walk around like this.”

Lara grunted and slowly lowered herself onto the seat. I closed the door and rounded the car. Needing a moment to calm down, I slumped against the other side. I couldn't believe how the day had taken a complete turn ever since Lara's call. My heartbeat in my throat, hands sweaty, head throbbing. It felt like everything was slipping through my fingers, and I could only watch, powerless.

I shook my head and took slow, deep breaths. I needed to get a grip on myself. My aching heart didn't matter—Lara did. I had to focus on that. According to my cell in my shaking hands, there was a hospital not even five minutes away. I got into the car myself, and a few moments later, we were on the main road and part of the slow traffic again.

Lara kept shifting around in her seat and making annoyed sounds while trying not to stain the inside of the car. She didn't even lean back. She pressed into the seat belt avoiding contact with the backrest.

Meanwhile, I tried to stay focused on driving to keep my mind from wandering. Even if I'd known what to say to her, I was fighting against a lump in my throat.

After we made it to the hospital, the car came to a halt on a lot in front of its entrance. Lara was already up and standing before I had a chance to help her. She looked up the building's front and frowned. She'd never been too big on visits to the doctor and especially not hospitals. She preferred to ignore those minor inconveniences called injuries until they sorted themselves out.

“Hey.” I held a hand out to her. She lowered her eyes onto me. For a short moment, her face relaxed only to fall again into the darkened deadpan. She straightened herself and was about to move. The moment her weight shifted onto her injured leg, her expression faltered.

“Let me help you.” Not giving her a chance to deflect me again, I rushed to her side and wrapped an arm around her. It took a moment, but she gave in and put one of her own arms around my shoulders. Maybe not everything was lost, I thought as we hobbled together towards the stone arches marking the entrance. Holding the door open for her, I helped Lara into the hospital. We walked up to the information desk that directed us to a nearby door that led into the urgent care center. We made our way to the reception past rows of chairs. A good portion of them were occupied with people, some of them with various more or less visible injuries. I sighed worrying how long Lara would have to wait until she'd be taken care off. The man behind the desk acknowledged Lara with a quick glance over before brusquely asking for her information. Once he got everything, he told us to take a seat. I wanted to ask how long it would take, but Lara grabbed my arm and dragged me away.

We settled into a free pair of seats and sat awhile without speaking a word. To keep myself occupied, I let my eyes roam looking at the other patients. It didn't work for long. My leg started bobbing up and down. I knew I had to talk to Lara. I'd screwed up so hard. But once again, I found myself at a loss for words. I scratched the back of my neck and peeked sideways. She was pulling a face at her leg and plucked at the rips in her pants near her exposed, bleeding knee.

“There are people who pay for holes like these in their jeans.” The moment that comment left my mouth, Lara stopped fumbling around. She leaned back into her seat with crossed arms.

“What happened to your foot?” I tried again, curious why she'd been limping.

She shrugged. “Got stuck in the wheel when it flew off.”

I winced at the mental image of the accident and felt an empathic twinge in my own leg. Instinctively, I scratched my knee.

“I'm so sorry...” Lara glanced at me before I continued, “that happened to you.”

She huffed rolling her eyes and turned her head away from me. I let mine drop into my hands and sighed. Keeping my mouth shut for the rest of the day was tempting at that moment, but I worried about what was going through her head. And wasn't not talking to Lara what had brought me into that situation in the first place?

I took a deep breath and murmured into my hands, “And about everything else.” I waited for a reaction, but all I heard was the thumping of my heart among the chit-chat of the people around us. 

The receptionist called out a name, and I looked up as a man at the end of the opposing row of chairs stood up and walked off. With my head out of my hands, I took the chance and glanced at Lara. She sat stiff, staring into space, eyebrows knitted.

“I'm sorry about... what I did,” I told her again more firmly.

She met my eyes for a short moment and then looked around at other seats as if she were contemplating to getting away from me. She didn't stand up though. She closed her eyes and exhaled.

God, I didn't even know where to begin. “I messed up with Sarah,” seemed like a good starting point.

“Really, you don't say?” Lara worked her jaw. “You can... kiss who you want. I don't care.”

“I don't—I didn't mean to. Sarah was hitting on me, and... she...“ Shit, wrong approach, I thought pinching the bridge of my nose.

“Sarah, of course. Thank you for your brilliant insight," Lara hissed and turned away again.

“Please, listen to me. What happened—that night... I'm sorry I put you into that situation.” Lara glanced at me. “But I've been stressed for months about... us and my feelings. And when I dropped this on you, and you... you didn't say anything—Seriously, I'm a nervous wreck.”

“Well, excuse me,” Lara chimed up louder than intended. She looked around and lowered her voice. “We've been friends for years, and suddenly you ambush me like that and expect me to know what to do?”

“No, I don't. Why do you think I've given you time and space?”

“Then why...” Lara ran a hand over her face before clenching it in front of her mouth. “Dammit, Sam,” she muttered into it. She leaned closer to continue through gritted teeth, “And because I don't jump you right away, you go and shag the next best?” Her cheeks had reddened again; her piercing glare was a knife to my heart.

Mortified, I stared at Lara and began to sweat. “I—I didn't...”

“Of course, you didn't.” Groaning, she distanced herself from me again.

Shit, I wondered what exactly Sarah had said to her. “Okay, I'm sorry, I wanted to. I was stressed and really needed distraction. So what?” I winced the moment I'd said it.

Lara smacked the palm of her hand against her forehead. “Stop. I don't want to hear anymore of this. I'm not going to discuss this here.” She crossed her arms, leaned back, and closed her eyes. And that was that.

Knowing she'd shut herself off for now, I slumped into the chair craning my neck to face the ceiling. I'd gotten through to her for a moment, and then it all had gone south again. I took deep breaths and tried my best to keep the tears from spilling. My head was spinning, my mind a mess. Unable to concentrate, I stared at the ceiling light burning a white spot into my retina.

When Lara was called up, I blinked repeatedly and got up to offer help, but Lara held me back. The way she pointedly told me to wait outside was almost the final straw. Lara limped away leaving me staring after her. Once she was gone, I looked around and into the curious faces of some waiting patients who seemed to seek entertainment in my misery. Screw them, I thought and crumbled back into the chair, my head in my hands.

At least she was taken care of then. I wished she'd let me go with her though. The way I pictured her accident made me cringe. I was dying to know she and her foot were okay. I knew how much sprained ankles sucked. But what if it was worse? Lara laid up and hobbling around with crutches for a month? It would have killed her. And it was not something she needed on top of what I put her through.

The look on her face when she'd seen me with Sarah came back into my mind, and I felt lightheaded. A wave of sweat washed over me. Ironically, it had always been Lara who had comforted me when I was upset. So despite the situation, I still felt the painful urge to seek solace in her arms.

So, I sat, stuck in my head worrying about Lara and replaying the events of the day. And it drove me crazy.

I was only yanked out of my thoughts when someone sat down in the seat Lara had used. I opened my eyes and was blinded by the bright surroundings. Once I'd adjusted to the light, I looked up from my hands into the concerned face of an elderly woman who scrutinized me. It was then that I realized I must have looked like shit.

As I got up to go to the bathroom, a door opened, and Lara stepped out into the waiting room. She'd taken off her stained shirt and held it in one hand while plucking at the hem of her tank top. There was gauze taped over her arm as well as where the hole in her jeans revealed her knee. Nothing out of the ordinary could be seen where the pant leg met her shoe though. Lara's eyebrows knitted when she saw me. Other than that, she seemed way calmer than I felt. Deflated, I shuffled over to Lara.

The reception called up a new name. A man excused himself to Lara to get her to step out of the way so that he could squeeze into the door behind her.

“How are you? What did they say?” I asked when I was at her side.

She shrugged. “I'm fine.”

“How about your foot?”

“Ankle is a bit sprained, nothing serious. They put a compression wrap on it.” She frowned down her leg and pulled up her pants to show her bandaged ankle.

“Thank God. What about the knee? And this?” I took her wrist and a closer look at her patched up arm. I hadn't even seen so far what was up with it since the long sleeve had been covering it up until then.

“I'm fine, really. Just a bit scraped up. Can we...” Her eyes darted through the waiting room. “Let's go.”

Without notice, I wrapped an arm around her and pulled her uninjured one over my shoulders. Thankfully, Lara didn't protest. We left the place, and as we walked past the information desk up to the exit, I gave Lara's bare arms a concerned look. It had been cloudy and pretty cold as if the weather wanted to skip spring and summer and transition right into autumn. I tried offering Lara my jacket, but she just put her dirty, blood-stained shirt on again. Fine then, I thought and helped her out of the hospital and into the car. As we drove away heading home, neither of us said a word for a while, which I was grateful for. I wasn't sure I could handle another debate that day.

We'd reached the other side of the Thames when I glanced at Lara. She pulled a face while moving her foot around.

“Does it hurt much?”

“I can handle it.”

“Did the doc tell you how to take care of it?” I nodded at her leg.

“Ice. Elevation. And rest... if you let me.”

I didn't even bother asking what that was supposed to mean and just groaned loudly in response.

“Sarah is waiting for you anyway. I presume I'll have my peace.”

“Lara!” I wanted to frown at her, but when our eyes met, her's looked as red as mine. I pressed my lips into a thin line and stared back at the road. “How often do I need to tell you I'm sorry?” When she didn't answer, I pressed on. “You act like I cheated on your or something. Last time I checked, we weren't in a relationship. So what's the deal? I just really needed some stress relief. When was the last time you got laid?”

Flustered, Lara shrugged. “What does it matter?”

"Are you some kind of ascetic?"

"I just don't have your urges."

“Clearly not. I don't remember any signs you had any sex in all those years. What's wrong with you?”

“What. Is. Wrong. With. Me?” If looks could kill. “Because I don't have a rabid libido and leave my body out for public use, I'm what? Broken? Is this what you're saying?“

“N—no. Shit, I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. And, hey! I only have sex when I want, and with who I want.”

“Was that the reason you hit on me? Because you were looking for a quick shag? Is this what I am to you now?”

“What? God, no! How can you say that?”

“Because I don't bloody know anymore what you want. But if sex is all you're after, then I'm probably not the right person for you and we should just part—“

“Stop! You can't be serious! Please, don't say that!” I couldn't bear to hear it. Not from her. I felt dizzy. My heartbeat was in my ears. I forced my trembling hands to steer the car into a side road where it came to a halt. It couldn't go on like that. “What I want? I want you.” I put a hand on her shoulder and desperately looked for reassurance in her eyes, but found none.

“And what if I'm not... available for your pleasure, will you keep going after others? Maybe you should hook up with Sarah after all. She seems eager.”

“Please stop that. Sarah doesn't matter. I love you, Lara! I love you so much. Shit, this is so not how I wanted to say this to you. I've been in love with you for months, and I'm terrified. I didn't know what to do. What if you can't love me the same way? Just the thought we might fall apart—it kills me. I don't want to lose you.”

With quivering jaw, I took ragged breaths as I waited for some kind of reaction. I wanted her so much to say something—anything, but Lara remained silent. At least the anger had vanished from her face. She stared at me with furrowed brows and swallowed.

I couldn't hold the tears back anymore; my vision blurred as they spilled down my cheeks. I felt sick. "I can't do it anymore. Shit. I'm sorry! I don't want to argue with you. I don't know anymore what's happening. This is what I've been afraid of. We never used to be like this. Look at us.” I turned off the ignition and stumbled out of the car. I needed to get away from Lara for the moment. “Drive home. I'll walk,” I told her and closed the door before she could react. I bolted across the road without paying attention and down the pavement on the other side.

“Sam! Come back!”

Ignoring Lara's shouts, I vanished behind the next corner and kept going. I zigzagged through side and back streets to make sure she couldn't find me. When my phone buzzed, I turned it off without looking at it. My legs carried me further until they stopped at the entrance to an old building in an empty alley. I crumbled onto the stairs and let out all my frustration and desperation through deep sobs. I spilled it all onto my sleeves without holding back. I cried, and cried until the flow of tears subsided and eventually dried out. Sniffling and shaking, I sat focused on the ground, the sounds of the city, and the unpleasant feeling of the hard, cold stone steps. I felt hollow.

At some point, I raised my head and looked up and down the alley. Even though the noise of civilization flooded the lane, there was not single living being in sight. I got goosebumps. The deserted surroundings made me feel queasy. A sudden homesickness consumed me. It filled the void inside me with the need to seek comfort in familiar surroundings. Even if it meant facing Lara. With the couch and TV on my mind, I picked myself up and trudged home. I felt so worn out, not even the lively bars and busy clubs I passed could tempt me. However, a drugstore caught my attention where I picked up painkillers for Lara just in case we'd run out of them.

When I reached the street we lived on, my car wasn't in the area we usually parked in. I looked up the front of the apartment building. No lights. Stepping into our empty home confirmed my suspicion that Lara wasn't home. Internally shrugging, I staggered to the couch and collapsed exhausted. That day had left me drained.

As I lay on my belly in the dark, the thought crossed my mind that Lara might have been driving around looking for me despite her injuries. Feeling guilty, I fished my phone out of a pocket and turned it back on. There were a bunch of voice mail notifications and some stuff from Sarah that I swiped away. After texting Lara I was home, I went back to Sarah's messages out of morbid curiosity. The last one was a selfie of her sitting on a bed with a hand in her pants, in front of her a laptop with my naked body on the screen. The caption said, “thinking about you,” with a winking emoji. Sighing heavily, I switched the cell off again, threw it on the table, and tried to distract myself with the TV. It didn't take long before I fell into a restless sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to ReasonsLost for beta reading!


	17. Take me home! - Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to ReasonsLost for beta reading and their support.  
> I cut this chapter into 2 parts so that you don't have to read the 7700 words in one go. This is part 1.

I'd slept poorly. Again. It seemed to happen far too often.

My head weighed a ton. Everything ached. I felt like someone had murdered me. Maybe Lara, fed up with my bullshit, she'd offed me in my sleep when I couldn't run. It sounded plausible. Still half asleep, I patted myself down for any major wounds and then wondered what the hell I was doing.

The couch creaked as I rolled around to bury my face in the pillow. For good measure, I pulled the duvet over my head and shut the morning sun out. I wasn't ready to come to my senses just yet.

When they started returning anyway, the events of the previous day trickled back into my mind. and the need to throw up arose. I lifted my head and smacked it into the pillow-cushioned armrest a few times.

I couldn't have delivered my profession of love in a worse way, or at a worse time. Not to mention that, because of all the mess with Sarah, it had been impossible to read Lara. She'd been so angry. The things she'd said to me...

Groaning, I pressed my face into the pillow. An attempt to hide from the world that my eyes were tearing up again. What had Lara done to me that I didn't have a grip on my emotions anymore?

The cushion stifled my whimpers until they died down. I emerged again and looked down at the wet spots in the fabric. It was then that I remembered I'd fallen asleep on the couch without any bedding. Lara must have tucked me in when she'd come home. That thought brightened my mood a bit. I snuggled back into the duvet and took on a more comfortable pose facing Lara's door.

There it was, in plain sight. Closed.

Judging by the daylight, it had to be late in the morning. Yet our home was quiet except for the street noise coming in through the open window and the ticking of the clock on the wall behind me. Strange, even for a Sunday. Lara had to be home though, I thought.

As I lay there, my arms felt empty. Long Saturday nights weren't uncommon for us, even if we had different reasons. But Sunday mornings had been ours—often cuddling and chatting on the couch to the running TV.

I sighed. Maybe she was the one hiding that time round. Maybe she was still mad at me. Or maybe it was because I'd told her how I felt and she needed to process it.

I had to pause to let that sink in. I'd told Lara I truly loved her.

Shit. There was no backing out anymore.

Whereas it took a huge weight off my shoulders not having to hide that anymore, my mind took off and ran miles about Lara's inevitable reaction—one way or another.

I ran a hand through my hair in frustration. Light-headed and restless, I grabbed my phone from the table in an attempt to distract myself. Half past ten. A bunch of messages. And a notification from the calendar app, which was strange as I rarely made plans for Sundays.

Right after opening the app, I flopped back down into the couch and groaned.

'Lara's dad.'

It was the anniversary of his death. There went my chance to confront her about anything. Why couldn't anything ever be easy?

Outside of her profession where she dug into the beginnings of time, Lara didn't seem to dwell much in her own past. Except for that day. I'd always complained to her about my parents when they'd upset me until the first anniversary of her father's death I'd spent with her. I'd felt so sorry for her when she'd told me about hers parents.

Poor Lara. Her foot, the anniversary, and my imposed love. She had a lot to deal with. She needed me, and I could only hope she'd let me help. At least with the first two problems.

But first things first, I thought as I tugged at my shirt and sniffed.

One thorough wash cycle in the bathroom later, I found myself in the kitchen, squeaky clean and somewhat ready to start the day. I stuffed a sandwich into my face and washed it down with coffee while preparing some breakfast for Lara. I collected a bit of everything in the hopes something would appeal to her.

While Lara's tea brewed, I checked the messages on my cell. There were a few from friends inviting me to a party and some trip. I tapped them away.

Of course, there was also Sarah. She'd messaged me after I'd passed out and again in the morning. I winced at the one asking whether I was ignoring her on purpose. I tried to imagine how I'd feel if Lara kissed and then ghosted me, and it made my stomach turn. I had to tell Sarah something. I typed that I was sorry and very busy. Pulling a face at my short reply, I hit 'send' and then dropped my phone as if it would bite me.

A moment later, it beeped. "Have I done anything wrong?" her message read.

No, but I had, I thought and ran a hand through my hair. "No. Sorry. I'm just stressed. Lara's hurt and I have to take care of her."

"I guess that means you won't come over. Can I call you later?" she wrote.

Reluctantly, I sent, "Sure." Maybe I could ease her into telling her the truth.

After putting my phone away, I gathered Lara's breakfast on a tray, stepped in front of her door, and hesitated. Nervousness returned.

"Pussy," I muttered to myself and knocked. It felt strange. I hardly ever knocked.

No reply. Forlorn, I looked around the living room, wondering whether I should barge in anyway. Then I wondered whether she was even home, and curiosity got the better of me. I knocked again and slowly opened the door.

There was definitely something on the bed under the duvet. Unmoving, with the back towards me.

"Hey, sweetie," I announced myself.

"Hey," she rasped into her covers and then cleared her throat. She didn't turn nor look at me.

I watched her, trying to untangle the jumble of emotions I felt again at her sight. I inhaled at length to steady myself and then carefully put the tray in front of her on the far end of her bed. "Brought you some breakfast. Hope it's edible."

"Thanks," she said and stared at the meal. "Nice room service."

"How are you holding up?"

Lara shrugged in response. That was more telling than had she told me she was fine.

I stood next to her bed, unsure what to do. I felt the need to slip under the covers and hug her. She looked like she needed it. But at the same time, it didn't feel like I was welcome. "Let me know if you need anything."

"Sam." My hand was already on the door handle. Lara looked at me with knitted brows. "Can you... stay?"

My heart made a small leap. Yet, I hesitated. The last thing I'd seen of her was how she berated me in the car. I was afraid she was still angry with me. But she just looked at me longingly and added a, "Please?"

What had happened to us that she had to beg for me to cuddle with her, I wondered. while shuffling back to her bed and climbing in.

I snuggled up to her from behind and embraced my little spoon. An arm around her middle, I buried my head in the nape of her neck and inhaled at length.

Her warmth, her scent, her skin. I couldn't suppress the butterflies.

I frowned, mentally kicking myself for craving again to kiss her—on the day she mourned her father. But how was I supposed to shut off all my feelings for her?

As we lay in mutual silence, I listened to her breaths, feeling her body move with each of them. It was such a peaceful moment. I had missed that so much. I tightened my hold on Lara, pressing her into me a bit more.

Lara took a Jaffa Cake from the tray and nibbled on it. "I want to visit my old home."

"You mean..."

"Croft Manor," she said in a melancholy tone.

"Shouldn't you rest?"

"I—I can't stay home today."

I slumped against her. The way she'd said it, there was probably no talking her out of it. "But what about your foot?"

She looked down herself. "I'll manage."

"Are you sure this is a good—"

Lara flopped down onto her back and frowned at me. "Will you help me or not?" I froze, taken aback by the sudden gruffness. Grunting, Lara rolled away from me. "Fine. I'll take a cab," she muttered.

"Wait, no. Of course, I'll help you. I'm just... worried about you."

"I'll be fine."

Her mood swing had intimidated me. Having undone my embrace, I stroked her cold shoulder she was giving me. "You're still mad at me."

Her shrug was barely noticeable.

"I don't know what else to say. I'm really sorry about—"

"Can we talk about this another time?" Her body stiffened

"Okay," I said meekly. "Want me to leave?"

Lara released a breath that rumbled in her throat. "No."

I snuggled back up to her, wishing I'd known what was going on in her head. "Yesterday, in the car. You weren't serious when you said we should part ways, right?" I needed to hear it from her. It had been stuck in my mind, eating me up.

"Sam!" she moaned and buried her head under the pillow where she let out a muffled groan. "I will be serious if you don't stop now. Go easy on me today."

Lara popped up again from her hideout and met my worried expression with a sigh. "I wasn't. Let's get ready, okay?"

With ragged breaths, she made an effort to get off the bed. Once she was in a standing position, she rubbed her hip on her injured side. She took a scrunchy from the nightstand and put it in her hair with a few quick motions and then limped to the wardrobe. With an arm full of clothes, she took the tea and a toast from the tray and wandered off towards the bathroom.

"I bought painkillers. They're on the table," I called after her. Shortly after, there were rustling noises coming from the living room. A pause. Steps. Then the bathroom door closed.

The moment silence settled, my mind started racing. It analyzed our interaction, picking apart every sentence she'd said. I was so not up for that. After the first stress-induced wave of sweat, I jumped out of Lara's bed and fled to my room to keep myself busy. I changed into some more presentable clothes and then browsed social media.

It wasn't long before Lara finished her bathroom stop that was much shorter than mine. I snatched my camera and joined her as she dumped her pajama on her bed and slipped into a jacket.

"What are you doing?" she said, raising her eyebrows at the camcorder in my hand.

"I've never been in the manor." I stood my ground until I realized the camera might make her feel uncomfortable. "But if you want me to—"

"Fine," she grunted.

Despite all the crap that was going on, that got me a bit excited. Ever since I'd found out where she'd grown up, I wanted to visit the manor. Butlers, wealth, prestige? The Lara I knew didn't fit into that picture. I wanted to see it with my own eyes.

Lara didn't. She'd refused to set a foot onto the estate before that day. We'd driven past the manor once or twice, but even when I'd begged to go inside, she'd stayed stubborn. She'd explained that she didn't have access to it anymore and that had been the end of the topic for her. Apparently, her uncle, who managed the Croft estate, tried to keep Lara away as long as she didn't accept her inheritance. Obviously, it was just an excuse.

"How are we going to get inside?"

"Leave that to me," Lara said, hobbling towards the entrance.

As we left the apartment, we pushed past the wreck of Lara's bike in the hallway. I cringed at the thought that she'd heaved it up the staircase by herself the previous night. Now, she used the handrail to get back down and then waited for me to help her move on. Either the painkillers hadn't kicked in yet or she had some prudence left in her.

The car was back where I'd expected it. I was about to ask where she'd been the previous night, but I stopped myself in time. It probably would've led to some awkward discussion about our fight.

We settled into the car, and I left it to the radio to break the silence while I tried to concentrated on driving. After leaving London behind though, the monotony of the country road kick-started my mind. It was killing me that I'd told Lara I loved her, and she acted like nothing had happened.

I gave her a glance. Shifting around in her seat and sighing, she looked as restless and uncomfortable as I felt. I turned down the radio.

"So, why do you want to visit the Manor anyway?" I'd been so busy dealing with my feelings that I'd missed to ask.

Lara didn't reply right away. She stared out of the windshield, fumbling around with the camera in her lap that I'd left in her care. She took a deep breath. "There's something I've been meaning to do for a while." When she noticed my quizzical look, she continued, "You know what happened to my father—what he did."

"Yeah," I said to fill the pause she made.

"I want to look through his research, his notes. I need to understand why he was so obsessed with it. So obsessed that he..." Her face fell into a frown. I put a tentative hand on her shoulder that pulled her out of her thoughts. She looked at me and then pulled back to lean against the car window.

"Have you never looked through his stuff before?"

"When I still lived there. But I was too young. I—I didn't understand it. Maybe now I can. I just need something to do today." She pressed her eyes shut and rubbed her temples.

"Do you want to talk about your dad?"

"Not really," she muttered and started playing around with my camera again. It looked like a conversation-ender.

"Okay. But if you want to, I'm here for you."

"I know." She gave me an unreadable look and then leant back into seat with her lips pressed into a thin line.

I wasn't sure what to think of that reaction. At least she talked to me, so she couldn't be too angry with me, I hoped.

I gave her another glance, but Lara had returned her attention to the camera in her lap. She looked deflated and exhausted. It had to be our most depressive car ride yet.

When the silence between us became too uncomfortable for me, I wanted to turn the radio back on. My hand was already on the volume control when I heard low noises coming from Lara's side. She was staring at the opened display of my camera, her knitted eyebrows sinking lower and lower.

I was confused. I ran a quick check through my mind what I'd filmed recently that I hadn't deleted from the memory yet. When I couldn't think of anything warranting Lara's expression, I tried to get a glimpse of the display, but without success.

"What are you watching?"

She didn't answer. It made me nervous.

Not wanting to risk our safety by taking my eyes off the road for too long, I tried to listen. All I could make out over the road noise was that there were voices.

"Lara?"

Still no reaction. I slowed down the car to lower the noise and listened again. I could understand the voices, and they made my blood run cold.

"And you're hot," one said and then something else that was too quiet. I could fill in the blanks, though: "I've had a crush on you for ages." A pause in which my stomach dropped. Then loud smacking noises of Sarah's and my lips as we made out at length.

Sarah hadn't stopped filming when she'd put the camera back on the cupboard.


	18. Take me home! - Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to ReasonsLost for beta reading and their support. Also thanks to WhatTheSchmuck for having helped me with some research.
> 
> I cut this chapter into 2 parts so that you don't have to read the 7700 words in one go. This is part 2.
> 
> Warning! This chapter contains Rise of the Tomb Raider spoilers regarding Lara's father.

“Jesus, Lara,” I screeched. I tried to get a hold of the camera in a panic before it could get to the part where my hand was in Sarah's pants. When the car began to swerve, I braked and stopped at the side of the road. Lara was still watching, stone still and blushing.

“What are you doing?” I finally snatched the camera out of her grip and hastily deleted the video with sweating fingers.

“What I'm doing...” The following sarcastic laugh stung. She shook her head and turned away. “I'm sorry I stumbled upon your homemade porn.”

“It's not... Sarah, she... I didn't know she was filming. I...” I wasn't even sure what I tried to say. It didn't matter anyway. Lara had shut down and ignored me. Clutching at the camera, I leant forward to rest my head on the steering wheel. If only I'd had the power to erase the previous day.

A loud honk startled me. My head shot up as a car sped off.

Sitting around on the verge of despair wasn't going to help anyone, I managed to figure. It was best to get Lara to the manor so that she could deal with her problems while I had another breakdown. Once the camera was safely stored away on the back seat, I drove the car back onto the road and onwards to the manor.

It wasn't long before we reached the byway leading up to the estate. I drove past the large gate and parked in front of the wall surrounding the premises. The moment we came to a halt, Lara practically dropped out of the car, slammed the door shut, and limped away. With creased brows, I watched her through the rear-view mirror walk up to closed gate. She grabbed the bars and rattled furiously despite there being a huge chain with a heavy lock around the middle. A sign attached to it said, “Do not enter”. Lara drew back and hit the gate. I cringed as the metal clanged. She gave it one more kick, faltered, and then leant against it with lowered head.

With a deep sigh and a queasy feeling in my mid, I took the camera and went after her. When my door fell shut, Lara looked up shortly and then walked over to the wall.

Overrun with ivy, it stretched far into both directions and was only interrupted by the ornamented archway. While the gate was big enough that a truck could fit through, the wall was only about seven feet high. It looked easy enough to climb over, even with Lara's injured foot. Clearly, she thought the same, because she was getting ready to jump up the wall.

“Hey, let me help you,” I called out.

Lara shifted weight to test her foot and groaned with frustration. It must have ticked her off to rely on me, but she didn't have much of a choice if she wanted her ankle to recover. After taking a tentative look around that no one drove by and saw us, I dropped the camera into the grassy strip that separated the road from the masonry and offered Lara a leg up. She put her good foot in my folded hands, using me for support, and grabbed the top of the wall. She pulled herself up with ease and swung her legs over the top to land in a sitting position. Usually, I'd have called her a show-off.

“Wait for me,” I said instead, but before I even had a chance to catch up, she was already down and walking away. Without looking nearly as elegant as her, I heaved myself and the camera to the other side and ran after her. Grudgingly, she let me put her arm around me to help her. At least she didn't push me away. After we'd settled into a working rhythm going forward, I took a good look around with my camera to distract myself from Lara's anger.

Hedges and colorful flowerbeds lined a broad avenue leading up to the mansion. The flowers and tan gravel shone in the forenoon sun. Paths branched off to the left and right through vast lawns, leading past grown trees towards turned off fountains circled by seating accommodations. The area was huge, and, surprisingly, nothing looked unkempt. Lara's uncle must have hired someone to keep the flora in check. It was impressive.

It wasn't like I'd never seen anything like that before. I'd checked out and filmed enough fancy places and more so in the UK in recent years. Not to mention the ones I'd lived in with my parents before I'd come to London.

The thing was that all that could have or had belonged to Lara. I looked at her and tried to imagine her in that picture—and she looked completely out of place. She probably would have taken that as a compliment.

Before my mind could delve deeper into that territory, Lara tugged at my arm, pulling me out of my thoughts. I threw one last glance back through the gate at two cars passing by on the main road and then picked up pace again.

The gravel scrunched beneath our soles as we slowly closed in on the huge building ahead. I'd watched enough TV shows in my time in England about the British aristocracy that my mind got flooded with images of posh little Lara. How she was driven around in an expensive, black limousine. Or her sitting all sniffy on a horse while taking riding lessons. I had to snicker—and was promptly silenced by grown-up Lara's fiery side-eyes.

When we reached the mansion's front, we stepped through the midmost of a series of round arcs supporting the protruding second story. Lara tried the main doors' knobs without looking like she expected them to open. Deadpanning, she dragged me away along the lengthy facade of the house and around the east wing. When we approached a double door at the side of the mansion, Lara left my side and hobbled ahead. While she tried the handles without success once again, I took a look inside through a window. It was a kitchen, fully equipped and about as big as our entire apartment in London.

“One moment,” Lara said more to herself than me and began pressing against the door while pushing up the handles. A snap, the door burst open inwards, and she went flying inside with a grunt.

“Lara!” I rushed after her, but she was already back on her feet before I could help. She went back to sort the door out and closed it behind us.

“Do I even wanna know why you know how to open a locked door in your old home without a key?”

“Roth showed me,“ she said and came limping back to me. That sounded plausible. I made a mental note to bug her about that story another time when she didn't feel like murdering me. As we went towards the kitchen's other exit, we passed a heavy door to our side. It must have been part of one of those huge walk-in fridges.

We stepped out into a dark hallway with no windows. Without missing a beat, Lara dragged me down one direction rather than using me for support. The hallway was decorated with old looking side tables with ornamented vases and porcelain, and several paintings on the wall. Unfortunately, Lara's tempo and the missing light made it impossible to take a closer took at anything. After a short walk in the dark, we stepped through another door and into the sun-flooded lobby. It was a sight to behold. Literally. My camera was glued to my face.

The entrance hall was huge, with tall ceiling and a massive chandelier hanging from it, and columns lining the open space in the middle. The marble floors reflected the light coming in through windows on the second level, which you could reach by a wide staircase on the far side that split up half-way. Visitors entering through the main doors would be drawn to a hefty, ornate stone fireplace on the opposite side with a gigantic landscape painting above. Walls and shelf spaces were covered with a collection of even more porcelain, silver, and paintings.

That had been Lara's home. I had a hard time wrapping my mind around that.

You could still sense the mansion's magnificence of times past, but it had faded. Unlike the gardens, the interior hadn't been taken care of. Just like back in the hallway, the vases and plant pots were empty. Furnishings were covered with blankets and plastics. Plaster had come off the wall above the main doors. Dust, blown up by our entering, glimmered in the sun.

Lara grabbed my hand that was around her mid. I'd been so caught up in taking in the scenery, I hadn't noticed that Lara hadn't moved one bit. Her face cycled through a series of expressions—downcast ones for the most part.

“Are you okay?” I took the camera down.

“I... Yeah.” She straightened herself and signaled me with a slight tug to go on. We walked towards and up said staircase and entered another hallway on the second level. It looked like the first one; only that one had windows.

It lead to what seemed to be the family's library. An octagon room, each side covered with bookshelves, and each of them filled to the brim. The only free spots were a large window and a short staircase leading to another level with even more bookcases. Under normal circumstances, I was sure Lara would have been all over it. Instead, she pushed me forward, up the stairs, and through another door.

It was a bureau. Lara stopped dead in her tracks. Her face scrunched up as she stared at the large desk at the head of the room with the sun in its back. Judging by Lara's reaction, it had been her father's. She released a long breath and put her head on my shoulder.

“We can still leave.” I didn't actually expect her to take up that offer. The moment I'd said that, her head shot back up and she gave me an odd glance.

“I have to do this.” Frowning, she left my side and walked over to the desk to settle into a big chair. Her hands slowly glided over the desktop. Her expression changed from annoyance to increasing sadness. I contemplated giving her a hug. Just as she looked like she was about to crumble, she snapped out of it and began pulling open the drawers.

“This will take a while,” she said brusquely without looking up. It meant she wanted me to leave her alone.

“I'll take a look around the mansion and check back later. Call me if you need me—or, y'know, if it's getting dark and you haven't heard of me, because I got lost. Or kidnapped. Or murdered.”

Lara wasn't listening. She was already lost in the first bunch of papers. I left the room and quietly closed the door behind me. Leaning over the handrail, I let my head drop into my hands. I watched my camera dangle from my neck for a while and then shouted a hearty “Fuck!” into the library. It did have a nice reverberation.

I knew hooking up with Sarah had been a mistake, but did karma have to be such a bitch? All I wanted was for Lara to understand that I loved her, to give her a big hug and be there for her while she worked through her daddy issues. Instead, she'd told me to wait outside for the second time in less than twenty-four hours. The really painful part was that she still treated me like that after my vocal confession the day before.

I rubbed the palm of my hand against the returning stinging headache. It was obvious I was on the verge of ransacking my brains for the umpteenth time. I needed to distract myself until Lara was ready to leave.

All right, Croft Manor, I thought and forced myself upright. With the camera back in my hand, I went down the stairs and scanned a few of the bookshelves before returning to the lobby.

I didn't have the attention span to look at everything, or really anything, in detail. I strolled around without paying much attention what I filmed or where I went. It felt like I visited most corners of the mansion though because I kept ending up back in the lobby and left through a different door.

It turned out taking footage of the mansion didn't work so well as distraction. Even though I'd never been there before, the fact that it used to be Lara's home was omnipresent. I saw her everywhere in my mind.

At some point, I entered a pool house. A large, illuminated indoor swimming pool with elaborately decorated marble columns, water spout statues in form of women with cornucopias, and a balcony with a diving board.

Not even the many mansions I'd lived in had pool houses that big. Her family had had to be loaded. Everything about the manor looked expensive. Not to mention that entire private library. And Lara had passed up on all that. Her family's inheritance really must have grossed her out. She would rather work her ass off than follow in any of her father's steps.

I did somewhat understand it. I'd actually found out part of it myself. Since the day I'd first met her, I'd found Lara intriguing. I'd sensed there'd been more to the introverted, kind girl I'd quickly become friends with. I hadn't expected anything to come out of it when the curiosity had gotten the better of me and I'd typed her name into the internet search bar. Boy, had I been wrong. She'd never really talked much about it until last year's anniversary. It had obviously been painful for her to open up.

I was back in the lobby when my musings were interrupted by my beeping phone. I thought it was Lara wanting me to pick her up until I realized it wasn't her ring tone.

It was Sarah. A video call.

The uneasy feeling in my stomach probably should have been stronger than it was, but I was glad about the distraction. Anything was better than further agonizing over Lara. I'd told Sarah she could call me, anyway. Though, I wasn't too keen on video chatting. I wasn't feeling so hot.

Before I could decide whether to accept the video call, it ended. I'd lost reception. It rang once more shortly after before going dead again. Well, shit, I thought and looked around. I thought about stepping outside through the kitchen but then remembered Lara had put the door back in place. I didn't want to break anything had it been locked again. Every other way leading outside seemed locked as well as far as I could tell.

I hurried back to the library, which had a two big windows looking out over the gardens in front of the manor. It seemed like my best bet. Also, I could keep an eye on the bureau's door from there. The window creaked as I opened it to lean out on the windowsill. I called Sarah back—audio only. She picked up before the first ring ended.

“Hey, Sam. Still pampering your roomie?”

“Uh, yeah, I guess.”

“What's wrong with her anyway?”

“Sprained ankle. Has trouble getting around.”

“Tell her to get crutches.”

Sarah wasn't wrong. I wondered why Lara didn't have any and figured I should look into getting some for her on Monday. At least she wouldn't have to rely on me anymore until she was better. I pulled a face at that last thought. “Good idea,” I said bemused.

“So, is she, like, around right now?” She sounded a lot more cheerful now.

“No. I'm...” I looked back over my shoulder. “Not in her room.”

“Wish you were in mine. Or maybe I can come over and—“

“Sorry, but now's not the time.” I tried to sound as apologetic as possible.

“Shame.” She paused and then continued in a sultry voice. “So, what are you wearing?”

I snorted. “Very smooth.”

“You know what's also very smooth? A hint: I'm touching it right now.”

“Sarah,” I groaned.

She giggled. “What? I'm so bored. I've been waiting for you all the time. I was really hoping you'd let your roomie take care of herself and come here. I can't stop thinking about you. Why didn't you text back yesterday? What was the matter?”

“Please don't remind me,” I muttered and pushed myself off the windowsill to take some steps into the library. “Some shit happened.”

“Are you oka—”

The phone went dead again. I hurried back to the window and called Sarah. “Sorry, reception sucks,” I said the moment she answered the call.

“Wait, where are you? You're not home, are you? I thought your roomie has to stay in and you're taking care of her?”

Well, shit, I thought and rubbed the back of my neck. “Lara has something important to do. Family matters.”

“What's so important on a Sunday that she couldn't take a cab? Why couldn't you come over to me?”

“It's an emergency.”

“I am an emergency.”

“Sarah...”

“No, really,” she took an audible, deep breath, “Sam, I can't get you out of my head. And—God—I'm so turned on from yesterday. It's bloody weekend. You said you want to make it up to me. When?”

My head sank into my hand. “Listen, I'm so sorry, but... this is a bad idea.”

“What do you mean?”

Sighing, I looked down the outside wall of the mansion at the ground. I had to do this—and it was going to suck so hard. “There's something I need to tell you.“

Just when I was about to spill the beans, loud noises caught my attention. They came from the bureau. Then Lara's voice. She shouted. Was she talking to anyone?

“Shit, sorry, I have to go. I'll call you back later,” I said to Sarah. I was already half way up the stairs.

“What? Sam, don't hang up on me now! What do you need to tell me? What's the matter?”

Sarah shouted my name once more before I ended the call. When it rang again, I muted my phone and stormed into the office.

“Bloody idiot!” Lara shouted with flushed cheeks and red, glistering eyes. Sheets of paper were scattered all over the floor. A photo frame, pen box, and other supplies that had been on the desk were knocked over or had fallen down. Lara grabbed a handful of sheets and tore them in half. “It's all rubbish! Utter bollocks! You killed yourself for nothing!”

I was dumbfounded. When she drew back her injured leg to kick the desk, I shrieked for her to stop. Her foot crashed into the wood. The pained scream was bloodcurdling. She toppled backwards. I rushed to help her, but Lara pushed me away.

She cursed at the top of her lungs, clutching at her leg. She was as red as a beet now and shook with rage. “Shit! Godbloodydammit!” She stumbled from bookcase to bookcase, tearing their contents out of the shelves and hurling them across the room.

That was a lot of penned up anger, and I wasn't sure I wanted to get in the way of it. I put my camera in a safe spot and carefully made my way to Lara anyway, calling out to her in a soothing tone. It pained me to see her like that. When she was about to throw another pair of books, she tripped over one of her earlier victims, bumped into a table, and hit the floor with a grunt. I was at her side in an instant. She lay face down, fists clenched, her body heaving with heavy breaths.

“What a pillock. Immortality? He was barmy. Completely nuts.” She turned to me, trembling chin, tears running down her cheeks. “Nothing. He left me because of nothing. Who does that? What father does that?”

“Oh, Lara.” I put a hand on her cheek.

I wanted to help her up but before I could do much, she threw herself at me. Hugging me tightly, she buried her face in the nape of my neck and whimpered. Her body shivered in my arms.

“I'm so sorry,” I told her and stroked her head. “You didn't deserve this.”

It broke my heart to see her like that. Then again, maybe it was time she released her frustration for once, considering her massive mood swings on those anniversaries.

I kept hugging and caressing her, giving her as much as she needed. Just as she seemed to calm down after a few minutes, she tightened her hold on me again. Her fingers dug into my back and she released a new wave of ragged breaths down my back.

“I don't want to lose you, too,” she murmured into my ear, her cheek pressed against mine.

“What?” I said, taken aback. Nervous, I waited for some kind of explanation, but there was none. Unsure how to react to her words, I chose to comfort her for the moment. “You're not gonna get rid of me. I won't leave you.”

“I miss you,” Lara said.

“But I'm here.”

“Not like you used to. I don't know what to do.” She leant back to look into my eyes.”Tell me what to do. What do you want?”

“I—I don't know,” I said, unsure what she wanted to hear.

She kept looking at me with her puffy eyes as if she was searching for something. Then, while I was still trying to figure out what to tell her, Lara cupped my cheeks. She stroked them with her thumbs and slowly closed the gap between us. Before I knew what was happening, she pressed her lips against mine. After just a second that lasted ages, she broke away.

“What are you doing?” I stammered.

“I want you to stay with me,” she said with a pleading look. My stomach dropped at the realization that I'd made her doubt that. What a mess I had caused.

“Oh, sweetie.” I placed a lengthy kiss on her forehead and then took a deep breath before saying as firmly as I could manage, “I love you. I want nothing more than to be with you, no matter how.” I had to force that last part past my lips, and it stung.

Lara slumped against me, relaxing into my chest. I was afraid she could hear how hard my heart was thumping.

“I'm so sorry. For everything I did,” I murmured into her hair and clung to her with damp fingers. I didn't want let her go again.

The silence that had settled into the ravaged bureau was broken when she whispered something that kept echoing through my mind.

“I love you, too,” she breathed into my shirt and tightly wrapped her arms around my mid.

If she hadn't heard my heartbeat before, I was sure she could now. Light-headed, I looked up at the ceiling and took deep breaths. No, I was so not going to cry now. I couldn't help snorting quietly at the ridiculousness of everything though. “We're such a mess,” I said mostly to myself.

Lara snuggled into me a bit more for a while until she said, “Take me home, please. I don't want to be here any longer.” She straightened herself and ran a sleeve over her eyes. She looked so done with the world.

I'd lost track of how long I'd been kneeling on the floor with Lara. My legs ached when I got up to help her to her feet. The moment we took the first step towards the door, she faltered with gritted teeth. Holding her upright, I took her to a nearby arm chair, she promptly sunk into with a groan.

“Shit, I need a moment,” Lara sighed. She looked around the room and her face scrunched up again. The bureau was in almost as much of a sorry state as herself.

“Take your time,” I said and ran a hand over her head. I jumped to my feet and began sorting the books she'd thrown around back into the shelves without system. It gave me something to do to distract myself from the whirlwind of emotions that were making my knees weak.

I was picking up the research papers from the floor and putting them back into a drawer, when Lara stretched out her leg and slowly moved her foot around. I wondered what exactly she'd found in his research that upset her that much. Something about immortality. I'd have to try and ask her another time though.

By the time the desk was tidy again, Lara looked ready to give walking another go. I picked her and the camera up, and we successfully left the bureau and returned through to the kitchen. Fortunately, Lara could open and close the door without much effort that time. Even though she didn't make a fuss about it, it was obvious the long way back to the car was causing her trouble.

“You okay?” I said when she got slower halfway towards the gate.

“I can't wait to get back into my bed and swallow a handful of painkillers,” she moaned.

I had to admit that a bed did sound very tempting after the recent restless nights. While I still didn't really know how things would develop between us, that she clung to me just as much took such a load off my mind. The relief was immense. Whatever would happen, we'd stay together, I told myself and gave Lara a tired smile she didn't notice.

Her eyes were fixed on something ahead of us. I followed her gaze and noticed another car standing outside the gate. It was white, with blue and yellow checks on the side.

“Police,” I gasped. A strong, queasy feeling settled into my stomach. “What can happen though, right? We didn't do anything.”

“Except a break-in.”

“But isn't this place, well, kind of your's?”

“You know it's not.”

“Shit.” I ran a hand through my hair. “I'd suggest to run, but...”

“They got your plate anyway,” Lara said matter-of-factly.

An officer appeared next to the patrol car. “Hey, you. Come out here.”

I was about to joke that we were doing that anyway, but it got stuck in my throat. I helped Lara up the wall and then struggled over to the other side myself under the bemused look from the cop.

“What were you doing in there? Can't you read?” He pointed at the sign attached to the gate.

“We just looked around,” Lara said and shrugged halfheartedly.

I raised an eyebrow at her. “This is Lara Croft and this is Croft Manor. She used to live here. We were just visiting her old home.” I held up the camera as if it would explain everything.

He gave Lara a wary look. “I've been patrolling here for quite a while. I know for a fact that the owner of this estate is not called Croft. And, obviously, you don't have any keys for it. Empty all your pockets and put your hands on the roof.”

While I still stood bewildered, Lara hobbled to the car and put her wallet and keys on the roof. Deadpanning, she demonstratively turned out all her pockets. Then she put her hands next to her belongings and let her head drop. When the officer gave me a stern look and waved to the car, I grudgingly followed suit. He patted us down and then took our wallets to note down the information from our IDs. With our hands still on the roof, I turned to Lara with a concerned look, but she was just staring at the ground.

After we got our stuff back, I had to open my car for him. Fortunately, it didn't take long for him to find that there was nothing to find. It still was unnerving to see a cop tentatively search through your belongings.

“Well, Miss Nishimura and Croft, you don't seem to have stolen anything. You're free to go for now. The owner of the estate will be informed and an inspection will be conducted. And you better not have touched anything. You wouldn't be the first to break into the manor and vandalize it. If anything is out of place, you'll be in for it. You'll be contacted soon.” And with that the officer got into his car and left.

Perplexed, I got into my own car and waited for Lara to get into the passenger seat. “Shit, I hope we won't get into trouble for this.”

“I'll talk to my uncle.”

“Mom's going to kill me if she somehow gets wind of this,” I said, lost in my head and not hearing Lara. I started the engine and drove home on auto-pilot.

**Author's Note:**

> These one shots are based on a kind of prompts list I saw on Tumblr. The list had 25 exclaimations that I used as inspiration for the one shots and that you will find as chapter titles.  
> Many thanks to TeenyTinyIrishPerson from fanfiction.net for betaing the first 12.


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